


Gracious...

by Demented_Soul



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gay strippers, Hannibal heals Will, Hannibal saves Will, Human Trafficking, Humiliation, M/M, Mason buys Will, Mentions of beastiality no details, Non-con with Will and Mason, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Strip club in mansion, Whipping, brothel, collar and leash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 89,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demented_Soul/pseuds/Demented_Soul
Summary: After Hannibal gets too involved with Margot, Mason decides to get rid of her and takes revenge on Hannibal by kidnapping the prisoner that brought harm to Misha, Hannibal plays a dangerous game to get him back and meets the agent who never appeared for his new post.Will is transferred to Virginia but never quite makes his new job when he is abducted by human traffickers and sold to Mason, he bides his time and plans his escape, but did he find it in a common enemy of Mason's?
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Mason Verger
Comments: 34
Kudos: 246





	1. Gracious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason decides to steal Hannibal's interest not realising he has destroyed a life's work, when Hannibal visits Mason to retrieve his property he discovers Mason has been up to some less than stellar things in his mansion...

Lithuania, Lecter castle

The stillness of the air seemed to suck everything into the nothingness of the graveyard. Even the trees seemed to hold their rustle as if they were tense with nerves for what was to come, spooky doesn't quite cover it and eerie is an understatement. The castle that stood behind the iron gates is cast in darkness, the walls are dainted and the gray is tinged with a sea of moss, a chill creeps over the uncut grass that surrounds each gravestone as though it worked to pull them in to the depths of the dirt. The scent of late fall is laden into those gusts that push impetuously against the sentinel stone, every flutter of a leaf catches the attention of each man there, sparking each mind to run faster, loosening their tenuous grip on the fained confidence displayed.

Mason stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around the cool metal gate, looking up at the dwindled castle as though he had reached the gates of heaven. The monstrous building lives as if under a constant shadow. As if the sun keeps reaching for the walls but just can’t quite reach them, and so the darkness remains night or day. The windows remain black even with the presence of light, unable to penetrate through the grime that clings to them, through the years of dirt that could so easily be washed away. The walls had been absent of a happy soul for over thirty years, in all logical thinking it was abandoned, owned, but abandoned. The time lapse was longer than some of the lifetimes present and ready to enter the leaf-strewn threshold.

The chain to the gate was cut and the seven men stood forward, three in front and three behind to offer up the protection they were being paid for. The grass was damp from the evening fog and every time they took a step, the mud squelched. There was no shock when the bottom step squeaked as the first man applied pressure with his foot, he let out a sigh of relief as the old structure hadn’t swallowed him up on principal. 

The overgrown branches covered the door as if it were warning them off but none could step back, The door, slightly off color from the rest of the house loomed over them like a giant but needs must so the one closest pulled away the branches without a sweat and reached for the brass door handle to push open the door. 

The inside was impossibly worse, the windows that were caked in grime on the outside were for the most part, boarded up on the inside, leaving only the slimmest of slithers for the days rays to struggle though. As they entered the old dining room the light cast from the open doorway was lost from view and several of them blundered into dusty cobwebs, it was a moments distraction from the flash of brown fur as several rats dived for cover forcing a scream from one of the intruders. After a few moments of mocking laughter to relieve the tension, each one became buoyant and bold. 

The only thing unmissable was the musty smell of a house that had long been abandoned, it filled each nose and forced a revolted look by all. It was dim and uninviting, the furniture dusty and old, looking as if it would crumble to dust if they were touched. Mould mostly ate away at the walls and flooring, the cobwebs laced every inch of the room as well as the portraits of self-righteous people who once lived within them walls.

Nothing of interest was in the room, only unlit candles and trunks of old, moth eaten clothes. But each person present felt as if someone, or something, was watching them, waiting to drag them into the shadows.

“All clear Mr Verger!” Mason walked further into the building once assured by his three hench men there was no danger, the remaining three followed behind him to ensure his safety at all times, after all it’s how they will earn their pay check. Mason wasn’t a strong man, but he was wealthy so he never bartered or compromised, he just bought and paid for everything he needed.

“Well, it appears Doctor Lecter and I have some similar claims to extravagance…” Mason looked around with righteous condemnation before pulling out a handkerchief to hold over his nose and mouth. “At one point or another anyway…”

“Mr Verger are you sure there is anything here of interest to you? Do you know what you are looking for? Maybe the payment is for a caretaker? Or a guard? OH FUCK!” Another scurry has the man’s boot slamming down to squash the offending rodent. “I fucking hate rats!”

“Yes, you have made that clear. My sources tell me Doctor Lecter has been making payment to a young woman named Chiyo who only comes out of hiding every few months to withdraw her cash… she always comes back here and I am making it my business to find out why. As he is so invested in my affairs, I find it prudent to involve myself in his… and whatever that is, happens to be here... I know it.” There was another small laugh at the man’s obvious aversion to rats which in turn caused a need for redemption.

The man stood forward taking lead. “Ok well let’s get going then, because this place is a set up for every horror movie I have ever seen!” The six guards kept their flashlights out in front of them to avoid bumping into anything, while some kept theirs down to the ground to avoid them tripping over anything. The ground got dustier, the floorboards got creakier, and there was… wait are those scratches? One of the men noticed eight deep scratch marks carved into the wood that followed with the next few steps, it looked as though someone had been dragged across the ground, using their fingernails in some desperate attempt to get away. “Ok there are drag marks on the floor.” Each man paused and looked down, only Mason smiled. “Well well well Doctor Lecter what have we been up to in this castle of yours?”

After the disturbing sight there seemed to be an increase in pace, each burley man feeling uneasy and wanting to leave, they occasionally shone their lights to the sides of the dank corridor, displaying the old vintage furniture that was broken beyond repair, chairs without legs, and cabinets without doors. It was something akin to a body with no soul, something that would never work again. The house was huge even by castle standards, but not as big as Mason’s mansion and that’s all that mattered to him. Then there was that smell, something inscrutable, but with a familiar undertone that no-one could quite put their finger on, it had a rotten undertone but not the one of an animal, and it had only gotten stronger the further into the house they walked.

“Ok gentlemen we go to the first floor and work our way down…” Mason was adamant there was something in this house that he could use against Hannibal, it was just a case of finding it. The Doctor had gotten a little too involved with his sister so Mason had been forced to get rid of her. The castle was easily three floors, four if the basement was counted, but when the group gathered at the bottom of the stairs, nobody seemingly volunteered to go first. “Ok stay close together.” One finally spoke and began the descent up the staircase, each man swayed their guns in perfect grace, covering each angle of the darkness as if waiting for the devil himself to jump from the shadows. 

The men were sure they would be out of this place in no time, none of them buying in to Mason’s theory. As they arrived upstairs the rooms were just as dim and uninviting under the weak light of the flashlights, but in honesty, it would probably look just the same even if it was illuminated with the brightest of lights. The furniture was dusty and old, looking as if it would crumble to dust if It was touched. Mould ate away at the walls and flooring, and cobwebs once again laced the bordered up windows.

The next room was the same…

And the next…

Nothing of interest was on the second floor either, only trunks of old moth-eaten clothes, but this time the presence of someone, or something, watching them became stronger, waiting to drag them into the shadows… it was unsettling and they all felt it.

“Shh, what was that? I heard something.” One guard hushed everyone and looked towards his feet. Holding their breath with audible heartbeats, the rest listened in anticipation and heard exactly what the man did, it sounded like something shuffling beneath the floorboards.

“It’s probably rats, these old places have crawl spaces beneath each floor for the pipes.” One of the men pointed out.

“No, it sounds like it’s coming from the basement.”

“Ok gentlemen on to the basement we go then…” Three men walked down in front of Mason while the remaining three walked behind the man, they were there to do a job and that was to protect Mason… so that was the plan.

The silence ended the second they entered the basement, it wasn’t disguised shuffles or slight bumps, the smell was necrotic and the sounds demonic. There was a shuffling in the darkness but that didn’t appear to be the threat, it wasn’t coming closer, something above their heads though, was.

Suddenly the air is rent with the sound of a loud crack, most of them had been in the army long enough to know a gunshot when they heard one. From the loudness the guards estimated the shooting was less than a few feet away. More worryingly the rapidity of the shots suggested something automatic, one of the men grabbed Mason and pulled him to the ground with him, there was no cover here. 

Then the silence returned, far more thickly than it was before the shots, as if everything around them was collectively holding its breath, the situation played out in seconds, locate the threat or be obliterated by it, those were the present options. They went into battle with all the gear of course, there's too many crazies out there not to. But to them, ‘bulletproof’ was more a state of mind, it was the choice to go out there despite any risk that could appear and this was an anticipated one.

A shot came again and a guard fired back in the direction when he figured out where it came from, it’s the conditions of battle, kill or be killed, so precision was vital. The shot knocked a woman and her weapon from the high up beam on the ceiling. The woman hit with a hard thud and an even louder groan followed, each man climbed to their feet and Mason smiled as he stood over her, knowing this was the woman cashing Hannibal’s checks, he had been right, there was something here that Hannibal was protecting, caretakers don’t carry guns right? The bullet had hit just below her left shoulder, close to her heart so they knew she didn’t have long left, the wound was so small, somewhat ragged around the tiny edges, barely bleeding even. If the entry wound was small, the exit was a gaping mess, so it didn’t take long for the crimson puddle to spill out from beneath her body. Chiyoh kept her face passive while she panicked on the inside, the men have no idea what they have done.

Hannibal booked the assassin so long ago, to dish out a revenge as cold as his heart. Then one day, a day that still hadn’t come, would. Chiyoh would do what she'd been paid so much for, drip fed over time from so many different bank accounts. The money was a broken and vanishing trail, when and if the time ever came, the man she guards would be put to death by her own hands, it would be slow and painful, the slower the better, and on camera, that was the agreement. Hannibal wanted to watch it live, so that he would know the exact moment his life force had left this physical world. Then he would keep it encrypted so that only he could savour it for the rest of his days.

Hannibal still can’t bring himself to honour that threat, the man hasn’t suffered enough yet…

The assassin was as agile as an olympic gymnast, although she preferred to think of herself as a soldier. When Chiyo had embarked on this commitment she hadn't been certain it was the right choice for her, but she empathised with what Misha went through, they were friends growing up, like family really. The aggressor deserved punishment yes, but she would not allow Hannibal to kill him, it was not in her nature, so, they came up with this and both suffered a life of pain equal to ten rebirths… still she could never quite walk away. Chiyoh had thought an assassin to be cruel and cold hearted, which wasn't her at all. She was just efficient, like a secretary. 

Mason moved to stand over the woman, smiling as he did. “Ahh, Chiyoh I presume? I don’t suppose you would be kind enough to use your last breathes to tell me what the good Doctor is hiding here.”

“Y-your m-making a big mistake… he will make you suffer… you have annihilated a life’s work.” Chiyoh pressed against her own wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding but died within seconds of her final statement. Mason didn’t see this as a problem, more a validation of his assumption, he wasn’t left wondering what was hidden long when the shuffling could be heard once more, but a rasping breath followed alongside it.

The woman on the floor was now lifeless. Her black hair was now scattered in multiple places, stained with dried blood, crimson. Her emerald green eyes remained wide open as they looked towards the heavens she had joined far too soon, her jade irises held a sadness. Her clothes, a lime green tunic and some black capris, were bloody. Her body slumped on the cold linoleum floor exactly where it would remain.

Mason took a few more footsteps out of fascination and it had him standing in front of the metal bars. No door, no handle, no way out. Just four concrete walls, a linoleum floor, a toilet with no paper and a bare mattress, this isn’t just a prison cell, by another name this is an isolation room. There is nothing to hold stimulation to the mind or attention, it’s just that, a squalid cell. Outside the bars are the walls of a dank basement. There is nothing to even mark the time.

Mason peered into the darkness of the cell, waiting for his eyes to adjust, jumping back when the crouching creature hissed at him, it was followed by an array of erratic movements and screams worse than those of a torture victim. The screeching from the creature's mouth was something akin to nails on a chalkboard. But it wasn’t a monster, it was a man, feral as it walked around the small space on all fours, every bone of his spine and rib cage protruded from beneath his skin. His eyes were white as ghosts and every few seconds his hand flickers to the gaunt face to swat invisible insects. When he speaks, it makes no sense, like a telephone call that leapt from one unconnected subject to another, but they weren’t words, just a series of grunts.

“Well, well, well! What do we have here?” The man would rock back and forth, all the while banging his hands rhythmically on his lap. Each guard stood in shock, not one of them expected to find anything here other than a caretaker inside these walls. 

“Why the hell does he have a prisoner here? Christ he stinks!” More than one guard held their sleeves up over their mouths and noses, unable to flee the rotting stench.

“You may want to look at this.” Beside the metal bars a gold plaque was prominently displayed and it was absolutely immaculate, it held an engraved inscription that only one could read, the translator that Mason had hired.

“It reads… Laikoma nelaisvės kūne ... nekaltojo žudikė,  
juoda širdis liks įstrigusi amžiname,  
savo nusikaltimo atspindyje,  
kol pragaro vartai nepateiks jo.  
pasmerktos sielos...”

“In English please Einstein.”

“It reads ‘Held captive is the body of evil... the slayer of the innocent, a black heart that will remain trapped in eternal reflection of its crime until the gates of hell claims his condemned soul...”

“So, this guy clearly killed someone close to Hannibal huh?” Masons smile grew wider at the guard’s realisation, because he was absolutely right.

“Yeeees, it would appear so… ok gentleman it seems we have found what we came for, load him up and we can be on our way.” As the men moved to capture the feral man, Mason placed his business card in the hand of Chiyoh, knowing it wouldn’t be long until Hannibal sought to find out why his right hand woman was no longer cashing cheques or responding to him.

Four days later, Wolf trap Virginia…

Will’s heart thumped in accordance with fast, shallow breaths. Stress plastered across his face as he slept, his consciousness mind swirled in the nightmares of a new start, oblivious to the physical world around him. A fresh start is the weirdest thing, as if everything that happened to this point in time, was a prequel to what comes next, Will had hated his previous job and apparently the feeling was mutual because they transferred him to Virginia. Will was beyond terrified for the new start, but it couldn’t be worse than it was before. 

Then with no prompting at all, his eyes spring open and he feels a blackness come over him, not in his sight but in his soul. Like a blanket, but not a blanket of warmth, a blanket of panic making him shiver. Will remained on his side, as still as possible while his eyes strain to see in the dark. When the dogs started to growl he sat bolt upright, struggling to climb from under the covers when three dark figures approached the bed from nowhere and grabbed his arms. Will grunted as he was dragged from the bed, taking handfuls of their clothing in an attempt to wrestle himself away, but it did little as he was restrained easily.

Will released the clothing and used each hand to hit out but it did nothing as the burley men press him against the ground, he manages to kick out, hitting one in the groin before he’s restrained once more. The man, after recovering from the kick, grabs Will by the hair and backhands him across the face multiple times. "You'll pay for that, you little bastard!"

The man returns the favor, kicking Will hard in the stomach repeatedly until he feels he has exacted his pound of flesh while the other two men struggle to hold him down. "Let me GO!" Will cries out in panic more than pain, there’s no room for the crippling agony of the kicks as adrenaline floods Will’s system, it pumps and beats like it’s trying to escape. The panic surges so fast he almost vomits, the saliva thickens in Will’s throat as he continues to fight against the restraining hands, what the hell is going on!? The only way out is to order his brain to function, to demand solutions instead of the blackness that it presents, but it doesn’t. So, though it feels as if Will’s bones have no more strength and his muscles are all out of power, still, he fights.

Finally one of the men cuffs Will’s wrists behind his back while the second pulls out a piece of cloth and tries to secure it around Will's mouth, but he moves his head rapidly, if he’s going down, he’s going down fighting. The third man grabs the young agents face hard and forces his mouth open, finally securing the gag into Will's mouth, tying it tightly behind his head. Game over.

"Mmph! Mmmph!" Will cries regardless as he is dragged to his feet, but the gag made any noise muffled until finally he was dragged from the house.

The truck Will was carried towards was something akin to a cattle truck, already alive with the sound of muffled screams. The back doors were pulled open and he was thrust into a small metal cage without care followed by a loud clicking noise when one of the masked men closed the small metal door. Will listened as his dogs chased the truck for a good few miles before exhaustion took over, he struggled to breathe through the terror. What the hell was happening? Who the hell were they? The thoughts are accelerating inside Will’s head and he wants them to slow so he can breathe but they won't, the oxygen flows in uneven gasps as though he will black out. The truck spins when he squats on the floor, unable to stand in the small cell through rough motions of the moving truck.

They had been on the move for what felt like hours before they came to a stop and Will finally heard the same men jump out of the front, he braced his cuffed hands and pushed against the cold surface of the door but it was all in vain… it stood stubbornly in its place.

A shudder ran through him, being confined within the walls of the tiny room was hell, the effects of claustrophobia has started to kick in. A metallic smell hung in the air, it reminded Will of the scent of dried blood and it just added to the already terrifying situation. The back of the truck was pitch black and cold until the door was opened, even then only a very little amount of the evening light made it through. Will listened as one by one the other doors were opened, it would go quiet for a few minutes then noise again as the other apparent prisoners were pulled from the small cells.

The shackles around his wrists were heavy and chafed the skin but were the least of his concerns when his door swung open and he was dragged outside. Will’s eyes travelled towards the midnight sky as he was pulled forward, when he looked up at the building, it was a mansion. Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal structure. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson, swaying gently to the chilly autumn wind. At its threshold stood a delicate marble fountain, the soft gurgling of the clear water melodic as it resonated in the surrounding silence. Will had no idea a building could be terrifying, but this one was, especially when he was pulled through them gates.

Even in the warmth and light of the foyer there was no comfort. The elegance was sickening, the situation confusing. 

Will observed the others that had obviously been brought in the truck with him once inside, they each held a similar stature of fear, some crying, some shaking, but all gagged and cuffed. There were at least ten young men between eighteen and thirty in total, each had their wrists cuffed in front of them but it didn’t stop some of their apparent struggles and Will was no different when a slew of men entered the lobby, each took hold of a victim and so did the three from the truck, once their jackets had been removed it showed each man wore the same outfit, a top of the line tuxedo. But the elegant style just reminded Will of a penguin, once each victim was grasped they were pulled and lead through the home.

Each room became grander until they are taken into what looks like a unkept dressing room without a word, but the outfits don’t match the apparent upscale tone, instead they are barely there, skimpy and suggestive. 

Each struggling man was thrown into a chair and chemically restrained with a shot to their neck, within seconds their fighting stopped and they slumped in the chair semi-conscious, and Will was no different, he kicked out as he was held still in the chair, watching as the hypodermic needle grew before it disappeared into the side of his neck. Everything became hazy, Will drifted in his consciousness. The room became a blur, random images seemed to float aimlessly around in the pool of his thoughts, as though they were being blown about viciously by a hurricane. A rough grasp on his T-shirt momentarily brought him back to the outside world as it was cut from his flesh and dropped to the ground, his underwear soon followed suit and fell beside the shirt, but after a second Will was once again lost in his haze. 

Will felt a hand grasp his face, through the haze of swirls the man seemed to be looking him over before writing things down, a rough finger pulled up his eyelid and he stared him dead in the eye, but Will couldn't keep focus. The whole world simply fell to a low resolution, something akin to a bad quality movie. 

“Would you say his eyes are blue or green?” The man asked the guard who seemed to be rifling through a box of clothes beside them. 

“I’d say green.” Confusion blossomed and Will knew that sooner or later he would need to wake up. To stare his situation in the face. But for now, his heavy head falls back against the chair while he feels the man dress him in some kind of tight shorts.

A small amount of focus re-enters Will’s mind when the steel cuffs are replaced with leather ones before a matching collar and lead is secured around his neck and he’s pulled to unsteady feet by the smartly dressed man. A line of swaying men is formed at the apparent dressing room door as though they were cows been lead to slaughter, the unfortunate victim at the front of the line is dragged through the door and they all follow behind a large black curtain that seems to lead on to some sort of stage, the first one is pulled up the stairs and disappears through the swaying fabric, a horde of wolf whistles followed, echoing before some man’s voice propelled through a microphone begins to talk.

“Gooood evening gentlemen! I think you will be quite impressed with the wonderfully diverse selection we have for you this evening!” It's a bar, but everyone is attempting to appear proper in their high end suits and attire. Tonight was one of many annual functions of the season, a chance for the affluent to buy their next toy at the mobile auction, it was always held in Mason’s mansion. Why? There was a fully functioning male strip club with an added brothel that was quite popular amongst the rich from close to far, it was discrete and unknown about by anyone that wasn’t a member. They came to gamble, to drink, to watch the degrading shows performed by trafficked humans… but most of all they came to join in with them. 

Some even brought their own toys to watch on stage or rent out for cash before buying more to play with.

Each patron sat as the lights dimmed and the flood lights illuminated the stage, eager to spend what they had brought as the servers there against their will brought out drinks on silver serving trays in nothing more than a pair of skimpy leather shorts and white tailored cuffs with no chains. Most of the seated men had their toys knelt beside them on the ground, holding diamond embezzled leashes attached to equally extravagant collars. Some were clothed and some weren’t, but each looked uncomfortable as their owners stroked and petted their hair as if it were nothing but a dog beside them.

The occasional suited man had a young men curled in their laps, clearly their ‘prized possessions’ they were usually the voluntary ones, the ones smiling and happy with the arrangement in exchange for extravagance.

“Ok gentlemen we have lot number one! Francis Dolarhyde! He is thirty years old, disease free, and a virgin in all the right places for the type of fun you want to have with him!” The man announced as a smartly dressed usher began to walk him up and down the stage with the aid of the leash. 

“Francis has dark hair and gray eyes, with very minimal body scarring!” Francis was barely restrained, the effects of the sedative still heavy in his limbs, his overall stage presence screamed chemical restraint, which is exactly what some of the men want, often keeping their toys under the effects of heavy sedation, however others prefer the more rebellious slaves to train and break as that is a big part of the pleasure.

Francis’s head remained down with his eyes cast to the ground as if to try and dispel some of the humiliation of standing in front of the large crowd wearing nothing but tight red hot pants and being able to do nothing about it. “We will start the bidding at one hundred thousand!” An array of hands went up for the starting bid, the voices echoed in Will’s ears behind the stage as he struggled to understand what was happening, the sounds came in waves, never quite reaching the brain for cognitive understanding.

“Ok we have two hundred and twenty thousand! Do I hear any higher!? Going once! Going twice! SOLD!” The room erupted in cheers and applause as the next man in front of Will was pulled up the stairs and through the curtain and the man began to announce the next lot. “Ok gentleman we have lot number two! Matthew Brown!! He is twenty five, has brown hair and eyes! He is disease free! Again a virgin in all the right places!! Now Matthew is extremely feisty even on a powerful sedative! Perfect for anyone wanting a fighter!!" The announcers voice almost purred.

The men watch as the struggling guy was pulled around the stage by the collar and lead, “We will start the bidding at one hundred and fifty thousand! Once again an array of arms were raised, even Mason this time who was after a dark haired toy, but he wasn’t overly enthralled by the ones presented yet. “We have two hundred thousand! Do I hear two fifty? We have two fifty do I hear three!?”

“Two eighty!”

“We have two eighty thank you sir! Do I hear any higher!? Ok two eighty going once! Going twice! SOLD!” 

“Ok gentlemen this one is quite a treat if I do say so myself!” The usher pulled a panicked Will up the stairs and through the curtain into the blinding light of the stage. Collective gasps filled the room as Will was pulled across the stage wearing nothing but a short pair of black leather shorts.

“How about that one Mason?” Cordell tapped the man’s shoulder when he seemed too busy running his finger around the circle of the tumbler in front of him. Mason looked up to see who Cordell was pointing at and his mouth almost dropped when he saw Will, he was gorgeous, exactly what he was looking for in a toy. Messy curly brown hair, glasses, beautiful skin, and a petite, although toned frame.

Will had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. A beautiful face. Well defined, with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones. The complexion of his skin going well with his green eyes, his dark brows were actually graceful, but currently furrowed in an angry frown, his scowling face made more of an impact than any words possibly could.

“This lovely little specimen is Will Graham! He has brown hair and green eyes! He is a virgin in all the right places and disease free!” Will tried to run towards the announcer, but the usher restrained him with ease. No matter how hard Will tried to free himself, he just couldn’t. “Whoa! And as you can see is extremely feisty!” Mason saw Will’s face harden and the cuffed hands clench into fists. The announcer just laughed at the attempts of freedom and continued on with his description of Will. 

Mason couldn’t take his eyes from the young agent, he had never seen anything like him, he was immaculate. Will used the ushers grasp as leverage to throw his lower body up in an attempt to kick at the announcer who just grinned at the futile attempts of attack. "As you can see, Will has a little bit of a temper! Perfect for anyone who likes them feisty!”

Will’s fight sent a burning lust through Mason, an urgent need to dominate Will in every way possible. Mason couldn’t stop inhaling, with each breath it was like liquid adrenaline being injected right into his blood stream. Somehow Will managed to free his hands from one of the leather cuffs that kept his wrists together, instantly slamming his elbows into the sides of the usher who was struggling to keep a hold of him, Will was like a beast, and Mason was enthralled by it. A submissive toy was waste of time in his opinion, there’s no fun in them… but a beast was a challenge, exciting.

A second usher entered the stage and aided in pining Will down and re-binding his hands, little did Will know the more he struggled the more the remaining bidders enjoyed it. “Ok we are going to start the bidding at two hundred thousand for Will!” Every remaining bidders hand flew up and stayed up all the way to three hundred and fifty thousand, by four hundred only Mason and one other man’s hand remained.

“Excellent do I hear four fifty!?”

“Five hundred and fifty thousand.” 

“Excellent Mr Verger! Sir do you wish to go higher!? Ok we have five five going once! Going twice! SOLD TO MR VERGER!” Once again the room erupted in cheers as Will was ushered of the stage, five hundred and fifty thousand for what?? Has he just been sold? And to do what? His palms were sweaty and the adrenaline coursing through his system was shutting down his ability to think logically. He wanted to run or beat the living daylights out of them, either would do. Will couldn't breathe when the leather gag was tightened around his mouth, it felt as if someone was choking him, his heart raced and all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save him. But no one would, no one was coming. A choked cry for help forced itself up Will’s throat as he feels the sweat drench his skin, his fingers curl into a fist, nails digging into the flesh of his palm.

The affluent enjoyed a few more drinks, a celebratory atmosphere as they bought off the rest of the lots before calling it a night. Each usher handed the men their purchases as they began to exit the mansion, the cuffs and gags had remained in place but as an extra, a thick ribbon had been wrapped around their torsos and fastened in a large bow in the back to keep their arms secured to their sides, a final insult of being gift wrapped.

Mason groaned as the usher handed him Will’s lead, 'Handful' had been an understatement, Will had all the attributes of a raging hurricane. Mason didn’t take the lead though, instead he gripped the collar that would give him more leverage to keep hold of the struggling Will.

“Would you like me to keep his hands tied Mr Verger?” 

“Yeeees, I think that would be wise until he calms down.” Will continued to struggle against the man as he was pulled through the house by Mason and Cordell towards Mason’s bedroom, eventually Cordell had to release his hold on Will’s cuffs and hook an arm around his torso to drag him the rest of the way as his muffled screams attempted to pierce the fabric of the gag.

Will slammed his head back missing Mason’s face by millimetres and that was the breaking point of Mason’s patience. At that moment, he was blinded by a rage that tasted bitter, yet surprisingly satisfying. Mason gripped Will’s neck and slammed him forward into the wall hard, but it did little to cease the struggle. Finally, Mason reached out his free hand and gripped the collar from behind cutting off Will’s air supply, still it did nothing as Will squirmed and fought harder in the midst of pure panic, terrified beneath his rock hard bravado. Mason snapped and slammed him face down into the ground and straddled his back as Cordell moved to unlock the bedroom door, once again the collar was pulled tightly and held so Will could not breathe to fight back.

Only when Will’s face turned crimson and he let out a whimper of pain from behind the gag did Mason release the collar, “I would suggest that you calm yourself down before I really hurt you!” Mason climbed back to his feet as Cordell leaned down in his place. 

“Ok... I’m going to pull you up now and you are going to behave yourself ok? And if you don’t, things are going to become very unpleasant.” Will didn’t respond, his body trembled but his movements stilled at the threat, he needs to figure out exactly what’s going on before he can come up with a plan to fight it.

Cordell pulled Will to his feet and dragged him in to the large bedroom. The moment the door closed behind them Mason removed his jacket and shoes as Cordell kept a tight grip around the struggling agent. “This can be as easy or as hard as you wish to make it Will, you are now mine, I own you, body and soul. You will do what is requested of you, and if you don’t, you will be punished in ways you can’t even imagine… it’s that simple... do you understand?” Cordell kept him restrained as Mason removed the gag first and threw it in the trash, then the collar, he had his own collection that he would make use of. Will looked away defiantly until Mason grasped his chin hard and forced eye contact, he held Will’s gaze, squeezing tighter until he nodded.

“Gooood… now I think we will get you in the shower, I prefer my toy’s to be clean.” Will began to struggle in Cordell’s arms once more at the mention of a shower, so Mason grasped the chain between his wrists and pulled.

And all hell broke loose... 

These guys were not putting him in the shower, not a fucking chance. Will let out a primal scream and temporarily broke free from Cordell’s grasp to lunge at his new 'owner', tackling him to the wooden floor and smashing two brutal punches into his face with cuffed wrists before Mason could react, Cordell easily pulled him off, but Mason was barely able to scramble up before Will sprung for him again and landed on top of him once more, Mason cursed and grasped both of Will's wrists, rolling over on top of him to pin his wrists above his head.

"That's enough!!" Mason snarled, the words dark and threatening but laced with lust as Will continued to thrash beneath him. 

"Fuck you!!!" Mustering all his strength Will continued to fight against the men though Mason still had a firm grasp on his wrists and Cordell, a tight grasp on his legs.

Mason kept one hand holding both of Will’s wrists above his head while the other trailed down bare skin and grasped his hip, slowly Mason began to rut against the writhing form. Will’s feet began to slip against the smooth floor, every attempt to push himself away was thwarted with Cordell’s grasp. 

“Let me go!!!" Will was mostly undressed excusing the thin shorts, Mason’s hand shook when he cupped and squeezed through the thin fabric.

“Nooo please...” Will begs, tears started to gather on his lashes when he realises exactly what he’s been bought for, he feels as though he will black out when the thought forms. His heart is hammering inside his chest as the room spins. “You need a shower.” Will is pulled to his feet once more and pulled towards the bathroom.

Once inside the bathroom Cordell turned turned on the shower and pulled out a towel from the small cabinet as Mason continued to restrain Will from behind, inhaling at the trembling forms neck. “I-I can do it myself.” Cordell pulled Mason a quick glance before pilling some soap and shampoo on the towel. “I’m sure you can do it by yourself… I would hope so at this age anyway… but I think Cordell will be happy to help in this instant…”

“Gladly sir…”

“Goood, I will be in the bedroom.” With that, Mason left the bathroom to change for the evening leaving Cordell to wash up his new toy, the screams weren’t silent, every fighting action was heard and it radiated lust inside the man.

Will was lifted into the shower but seated, toes and butt flinching as they touched the chilled ceramic floor, his mind in shreds, he gasped when the cool water trickled down his back, eyes falling closed over and over. The sensation of the water does little to calm him as the man bathed his skin gently, being careful not to touch the variety of bruises that now scattered his body from kidnap and rough treatment. Cordell washes the brown locks and cleans every inch of Will’s body while keeping a firm grip around his torso as he fights weakly, the hours of exertion prove too much as Will goes limp, all he can do is sob as the violating hands scrub at his flesh.

Cordell dried Will off and pulled him back through to the bedroom, nudging the back of his legs to send him onto a kneeling position beside Mason’s large bed. There was a chain secured to the wall that only went as far as the small dog bed beside Masons own, Cordell placed a leather collar around Will’s neck and secured it to the chain, padlocking it from behind. Will is about to survey his surrounds but is halted when his head is pulled back painfully hard and he feels something cold and metallic forced between his lips and secured behind his head, it forces his mouth open and amplifies the panicked sounds. Will tests the intrusion with his tongue and quickly realises its some form of ring gag, the realisation is terrifying.

“Do you require anything else before I take my leave Mr Verger?”

“No thank you Cordell that will be all for the evening thank you.” Cordell left the room to finish up the rest of his requirements in the home as Mason settled back in the bed, getting comfortable before flicking on the TV. 

The pressure in Will’s mouth becomes painful rapidly, at least an hour passes before Mason turns off the TV and swings his legs to the side of the bed, spreading them out one either side of Will’s torso, there is no way to move through the cuffs now securing his wrists behind his back and the chain on the wall, so he simply lowers his head to the ground. Mason puts a stop to that by slipping a hand under Will’s chin to lift his gaze to meet his own.

“You should expect to find yourself in this position often… on your knees… if you behave you will be rewarded, but if you continue to disobey me then I can assure you there are much worse positions to find yourself in.” Mason spoke in a high, aristocrat tone while pulling the drawstring open on the striped pyjamas. "I think it is time for us to become a little more acquainted, don’t you? I think we should start by putting those pretty lips to good use because you want to be my good boy don’t you?" Mason held his breath, waiting for Will’s reply, but he didn't have to wait long when Will began to struggle instantly.


	2. Gracious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will must adjust to his new situation if he is to escape, will he find a friend in Mason's enemy?
> 
> I made a mistake with character names in the first chapter I apologise about that! It was actually Matthew Brown that was auctioned not Randall... it will make sense after this chapter!
> 
> A huge thank you to the people who have read and left a kudo I know the Mason/Will shipping isn't as big as Will and Hannibal... Hannibal and Will do have a very featured role in this story though!
> 
> I hope the latest chapter is enjoyed!

Will continued the futile struggle but Mason simply tightened his legs and held the chain preventing even the smallest of movement, amplified screams rent the air when Will realized what was about to happen and worst still, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Will was once again forced to look up at the man with the aid of a tight grasp under his chin, he didn’t even attempt to hide the fear, Mason took a few moments to enjoy the panicked expression before leaning down to capture a tear with his tongue. Will sobbed uncontrollably, even through the tight grasp he feels his chin tremble like a small child, his entire body was consumed in tremors when Mason removed his fingers and scooted forward, pulling down the fabric of the bottoms he began to stroke himself to half mast while his other hand moved to caress the back of Will’s head ensuring he had a controlling grip of the mused brown locks. 

Mason used his grasp to pull the young agent forward slightly and Will’s gaze dropped to the length in front of him and couldn’t help but take in a very shaky breath. Mason was hung, there was no way to deny that, he couldn’t swallow the entire length without choking but it didn’t look as though he had a choice. 

Mason finally used his grip to pull Will’s head down as he guided his cock through the metal ring of the gag and had to stifle a groan when Will involuntarily swiped his tongue over the intrusion, enjoying the feel of hot breaths pulsing against his skin Mason pushed him down even further, It had been a while since he’d had such a good looking toy to play with. 

Will retched when he feels the head of Mason’s cock touch his tongue, he tried hard to pull back but the attempt was futile, so instead he tried to concentrate on his breathing, but then Mason pushed in. All the way in. The gagging and panic intensifies when Will quickly realizes he can’t breathe, Mason pulled out allowing a short recovery and paused for only a second before pushing straight back in again, deeper this time.

Mason continued the slow rhythm of pushing deep into Will’s throat and then pulling back out, nothing but excitement building his excitement fuelled on by Will’s noises of pure fear. Will couldn’t relax, he tried to breathe through his nose but it didn’t help, he tried to swallow but it was impossible, his throat felt dry as saliva pooled from the corners of his mouth down his chin, he really thought he was going to choke. Tears began a steady stream down Will’s face as Mason picked up the pace, groaning as he thrust deeper into the wet cavern, using his grip on Will’s hair to pull him down onto each snap of his hips. 

Will began to fight against the restraints holding him in place but the struggle was futile, his cuffed hands tensed and relaxed against his back as the man began to grind his hips faster. Mason groaned louder in an attempt to distract himself, he was going to cum far too quickly if he didn't take control of himself. The hair was soft beneathe his fingers and he gave a slight tug in encouragement but Will didn’t react beyond trying to maintain his breathing.

“That’s it you dirty slut." Mason mumbled, applying even more pressure to the back of Will’s head while forcefully rocking his hips, pushing himself deeper down Will’s throat with every thrust. Will whined a little and desperately tried to pull back, but the fingers painfully gripping his hair kept him firmly in place. "Relax." Mason urged when Will made a panicked moan at the lack of air and dragged his fingernails over the skin of his palms. 

Mason used the hand behind his head to push Will down even further. "Relax your throat and swallow." Mason ordered as Will spluttered and continued his struggle, tears began to drench his cheeks as a few more panicked noises escaped his throat. The gagging sounds were becoming more and more aggressive but Mason showed no mercy. Will could feel Mason was getting close as the thrusts began to escalate in force and speed. Finally, he relaxed his throat and let Mason push all the way in, his nose pressed firmly to the man’s stomach.

Mason’s breathing became more and more erratic, the moans turned grunting as his thrusting became even more aggressive, he was actually fucking Will’s mouth, he wanted to die. The tight, wet heat of Will's mouth felt so amazing Mason didn't let him up just yet, keeping his hand at the back of the agent’s head, nails digging in slightly. 

Mason couldn’t hold back his groans any longer as the pleasure began to steadily rise, he was close, he could feel his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach and twisted his hand in Will's hair holding him still as he thrust up a few more times and released into deep into Will’s throat with a loud groan, Mason pulled out instantly, pulling out the restraint just as fast and forced Will’s mouth closed, holding it tightly until he swallowed. Will’s sobs became desperate crying when Mason let go of him entirely and air finally managed to find its way back into his lungs.

Mason let his body sag as he came down from the high, watching as the younger man tried to catch his breath between sobs, there was no mercy or release, Mason still didn’t allow Will to move from his kneeling position between his legs, instead he leaned down and kissed Will’s mused locks while using both hands to caress his cheeks, he pressed their foreheads together when he spoke. “That will happen often so I suggest you get used to it… but on a lighter note you did very well, I’m proud of you… now I think its time we get some sleep don’t you?” Will’s entire body vibrated at the sexual assault but he remained frozen in place, Mason simply cleaned himself up and released a catch on the wall giving Will a few more inches of chain, allowing him to curl up in a ball on the dog bed. 

“Good night Will, I think I am going to enjoy having you here.”

Will cried himself to sleep that night, no longer confused about the situation he was in, even in the darkness the walls seem to close in, he wanted nothing more than to rip away the chain, curl his hands into fists and punch right through the brick. Logically Will knows the walls aren't moving but still the crushing pressure only gets stronger, his mind searches the darkness for ways to escape with all the methodology of a bouncing ball, but apparently his captors have had the same thoughts because from what he has seen so far, when every door closes it locks, every window appears concealed with an opening no bigger than his hand, they stand to prevent the mission that is Will’s purpose. Freedom.

Will’s stomach lurches, contracting as though it were trying to scream, to let out all the fear held in it’s pit. There isn't a person alive who doesn't fear being closed in, fear being trapped in darkness, Will spends most of the night shaking, only getting an hour or two of fractured sleep.

Will listened as Mason climbed out of bed the next morning to take a shower, he waited until the door closed before he sat up to survey his surroundings in the light of day, but the large room is a cage that seals off any viable exit. Last night Will dreamt of sitting in a museum, a masked man seated beside him all in black. The man had no face but still there seemed to be nothing to fear... it was almost calming when the figure placed a hand upon his shoulder and spoke of strength. Fear is a weight on Will’s rib cage, a constant pressure that can only be lifted with his freedom.

Looking around there was nothing close by to use as a weapon but would it matter if there was? Even if he could get out of this room there seems to be many guard’s downstairs that would thwart any attempt, especially the burley moron that seems to be Mason’s right hand man. Will pulled at the chain but it didn’t budge, he pulled it harder and yelped when it suddenly retracted all the way back into the wall with force, pulling him along with it as though he weighed nothing. When the collar couldn’t go any further his back pressed firmly up against the wall and Will realised it was an anti-escape method, or at the very least, a tell tale of his attempt.

Mason exuded amusement when he left the bathroom and witnessed Will’s current predicament, much to the young agents annoyance. “Did you really think it would be that easy Will? Do you really think that any possible escape attempt you can think of hasn’t already been contemplated and prevented in advance? I highly suggest you listen to me and listen well.” Mason crouched down in front of him, a mocking smile spread across his lips as Will grimaced, the eye contact was forced when Will was unable to move his head, regardless he stared the aristocrat down with nothing less than malice. 

“Don't look at me like that Will you don’t have that right, I am better than you in every way. If you think that you can escape, then please, try, it would be fun to watch the punishments. I could beat you in my sleep. How do I know that I'm superior in every way? I know it from this attempt, I know it from comparing your clothes to mine, even your speech… You are nothing more than property to me. I am sorry if it hurts Will but you are. So why don't you stop snivelling and accept it… you are mine now.” Mason laughed as he pinched the enraged Will’s cheek, he couldn’t even swat the man’s hands away with the cuffs, his arms ached.

Before standing to dress, Mason leant forward and grazed both hands over the bare chest and stomach, Will recoiled at the action, the man’s touch felt vile but there was a small relief when the man finally reached around and freed his wrists. Mason had been brought up with the belief that he was superior to everyone else by virtue of his birth that was clear, perhaps without that sense of entitlement Mason could have been handsome, heroic even, but that sneer made him the ugliest damn human being to walk the planet, to describe him as narcissistic would be like commenting that a ball is round, he exuded it. It was in the way Mason walked, in the way that he talked and in the clothes that he wore, but above all else it was in his morals. 

Mason only kept sycophantic friends who complimented him and lapped up all the drivel he spouted as if it were the epitome of genius, but it wasn’t. It was a monotone rambling of dribble that not one of his friends had interest in, their ‘friendship’ was centred around what Mason could provide for them nothing more, he was just too arrogant to realise that. 

“Now, I’m sure you must be hungry by now?” Mason got no response and that didn’t work for him, the disobedience was beginning to piss him off. “I asked you a question.” When Will still didn’t speak the man walked over once more and took his chin in hand, forcing eye contact, still no response was given just another defiant glare.

Mason stood without saying a word and brought his hand back hard across Will’s face, the force echo’s a sickening sound as his head slams into the wall behind him. A welt forms quickly beneath Will’s eye as tries desperately not to vomit. “Now, we are due for breakfast and despite your attitude so far I am feeling generous so you have three choices, number one, you can go downstairs in nothing but your collar and leash, number two, you can be a good boy and change in to the shorts I hand you, or number three, you can refuse either and Cordell will assist in dressing you. Make your choice and please make it quickly because I am hungry.” Mason held out a fresh pair of skimpy shorts but Will was too dazed to answer, the room began a violent spin from the hit and he couldn’t slow it down.

“Very well, I shall fetch Cordell…” Mason only made it two steps before Will finally found the vocal presence to answer, he didn’t want to wear nothing, he didn’t want to wear the shorts either but dressing himself was the lesser of three evils. 

“Wait! I will dress myself.” Will’s statement was almost a whisper but Mason smiled regardless at the surrender.

“Goood!” Mason released some slack on the chain to allow Will the movement to change before sitting on the side of the bed to pull out one of his favorite collars and a lead from the night stand. “I think we will use this one today, it’s real diamond and probably worth more than the entire collection of junk you acquired of your lifetime. Now I’m going to remove this one and you are going to behave yourself because if you don’t, one push of a button and Cordell will ensure the correct behavior… do you understand me?” Will relented and nodded not wanting another hit or the presence of Mason’s burley butler.

Will hadn’t realised how heavy the chain actually was until it dropped to the floor beside him, the relief was short lived though as the obnoxious collar was quickly secured around his neck. When Mason moved to stand up so did Will but he was promptly pushed back to his hands and knees with aggression, it didn’t take him long to realise why. “Toy’s crawl. Masters walk.” Will’s knuckles turned white from clenching his fists too hard, but not as hard as the gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, every word from Mason stung, only fuelling the rage that burned inside of him. Every violating phrase or sentence was like gasoline in his gut as he assumed the requested position, Will’s hunched over form exuded an animosity that was like acid to his gut, his face burned crimson with suppressed rage that only increased when the leash was pulled forward and they exited the bedroom. 

Mason always walked a step ahead, not even acknowledging the many servants they passed when making their way down the hallways towards the dining room, Will though acknowledged each person, each down ward glance fuelled his humiliation and Mason only seemed to take enjoyment from that fact. “The sooner you stop fighting Will the better it will be, now Cordell has made us some food and it’s up to you if you eat it or not, but you won’t be offered anything else if you don’t…” When they entered the dining room Will took in the exceptionally long table as Mason unhooked his leash and placed it on a hook beside the door before taking his seat at the table, but Will remained crouched in the doorway awaiting his next order. 

“Now I don’t usually allow my toys to join me at the table, but for our initial conversation of what will be expected of you I am going to allow it this once.” Will raised his head slightly at the statement, not high enough to make eye contact, but high enough to show that he was listening. Sitting at the table was not the enticing subject, it was the explanation of ‘what will be expected of him’ meaning he is about to be informed of what the hell was going on, with knowledge will come planning. “So, come and sit at the table, you won’t like it if I have to make you.” Will crawled across the room and dropped himself down on the chair opposite Mason, he had no intention of eating anything, but damn whatever was coming from the kitchen smelt good, he was so hungry by this point. 

Cordell walked in pushing a serving cart and dished up Mason’s first to no surprise before walking down the long table to deposit Will’s food in front of him, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when two dog bowls set out in front of him, the added insult? It had Will carved in into the white porcelain with gold letters. “Say thank you to Cordell Will, he has worked exceptionally hard on breakfast as he does on all his meal preparations, manners cost nothing my pet.” Will grit his teeth so hard he thought the enamel would crack, but looked up at Cordell regardless. 

“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.”

“Now I imagine you are quite confused as to why you are here, I know I would be if I found myself in the predicament you are in… but it’s quite simple really, I’m not one for relationships and especially not with women, they don’t seem to excite me the way a good looking man like yourself does. They have other attributes of course, ones I do so enjoy being around, their elegance… their beauty… their softness in words and advice, they are all attributes I endeavour to keep in my presence, sadly though not in a sexual way. But as father always used to say, man should not lie with man, and I tend to agree somewhat as even in these times the notion is sadly looked down upon, especially in the affluent circles I run in.” If the situation wasn’t so fucked up Will could actually fall asleep at the man’s droning melatone.

“Although the act is frowned upon, it is a surprisingly common interest I share with many of my equals, it’s just finding someone to willingly cater to all my needs in dismissal of their own while keeping it private is a very difficult thing to find in willing people… in truth, I don’t have the time nor the patience to look, so I would rather buy what I am looking for instead.”

“People will look for me, an FBI agent goes missing, people ask questions. Especially when I don’t turn up for my new assignment and my things and dogs are found!” Will couldn’t help the anger in those words

“Yeees, I don’t personally own the service that took you from your home, but it is an annual auction so my guess is they went to a great deal of effort to ensure they left no signs of their presence, again an assumption, but they must be good at what they do as you participated in the eighth annual auction… and not yet has it been brought to light… but also building off your statement I think we should go through what will be expected of you while you are here, as well as the rules… I think we should do the rules first... then what is expected and finally we can move on to what will happen if you do not obey.” 

Number one, you will not speak unless I give you permission to.

Number two, you will kneel at my feet when I am still and you will crawl behind me when I am moving… you are only allowed on the furniture or on my lap when given permission.

Number three, you will please me however I desire, and you will NEVER cum unless it benefits me. 

Number four, you will only speak when spoken to or when given permission to, permission can be gained by asking for permission to speak.

Number five, if you don’t do as you are asked the first time then there will be harsh punishments, this includes you not doing what is asked of you to the best of your abilities.

Number six, you will only wear shorts from now on unless I require you to be naked.

Number seven, you will always wake up before me and assume the position for oral gratification.

Number eight, you may not allow anyone to touch you other than myself.

Number nine, you are NEVER allowed to leave the confines of any room you are in without me, if you do then this will result in you being permanently restrained.

Number ten, I now own your mind, body and soul, and you will respect that. 

“Now those of course are just my personal rules for you, what will be expected of you otherwise is a another thing entirely, that will have its own set of rules. I spent a lot of money on you, too much if I am honest so you will have to earn your keep here. That debt is now your debt, so you owe me a lot of money… now I am sure you have heard the term sing for your supper and I think that is a great analogy for this circumstance, only you will be dancing for yours. Ironically on the very stage you were purchased from downstairs. Of course you can refuse, but I wouldn’t envy you if you were to take that stance, before you make any final decisions or learn of those rules I am going to allow you to spend the day shadowing one of my long term boys here, and then we will discuss what you have decided this evening… Cordell, if you would?”

“Certainly sir…” Cordell moved to pull Will from the chair but didn’t push him to his knees this time though, instead he grabbed the collar and walked him out of the dining room. 

Will was sure to pay attention to every detail as he was dragged down the hallways, all the doors and windows appeared the same, secure. There was what looked to be servants and guards walking every few feet and when they passed the main door, two burley men stood to prevent any exit. When they made it down the stairs Will realised even the bar entrance was obnoxious, a red carpet was placed between golden poles that stood in front of the large double wooden doors with a further two men standing guard.

The bar looked different without the guise of lights and a powerful sedative, it stood empty aside from a young guy sitting on a stool reading a magazine.

“Randall this is our new recruit Will Graham, Mason has requested he shadow you for the day so he knows exactly what he’s doing when he begins working, take him through the rules and punishments as Masons personal pet, not a club members toy.” 

“Why of course Cordell! Does one require anything else at this time!?” Even through the horrors of the situation Will couldn’t help the smallest of smirks at the guy’s overexaggerated mocking tone and movements, clearly the guy had similar feelings towards the burley butler.

“And one questions why your second home is the rack Randall, should we assume you are secretly enjoying it? Just do what is requested of you and maybe lose the attitude.” Once again Randall smiled brightly but it was obvious the words had caused some internal agony, still he saluted Cordell with a mocking movement, the anger on Cordell’s face was present but he chose to walk away knowing he got the upper hand on that one.

“Hey, I’m Randall… long term prisoner, full time pain in the ass.” Randall pulled a face as Cordell left the bar before turning to shake Will’s hand, he had been here for just over four years now so knew the system well, he was originally purchased as Mason’s private pet but his status quickly changed to club members toy when the aristocrat realised there was no way to break his spirit, if he’s stuck here then there is no way he is making it easy on them. When Mason realised his young age was clearly popular amongst the club members it just made more sense to rent him out so Randall lost the personal status that Will has clearly gained. Mason had no morals, he was depraved and Randall felt truly sorry for Will.

Randall had used humour as a way to cope with what happened to him, that and severe bouts of attitude, it made him both loved and hated amongst the other captives here but he really didn’t care. Will held out his hand with little enthusiasm, but Randall knows that is to be expected and doesn’t hold anything against it.

“Will.”

“How long have you been here Will?”

“I was taken from my home yesterday.”

“I’m sorry.” Randall was often enlisted to show the new recruits the ropes, it wasn’t something he enjoyed doing because there was nothing that could be said or done to make them feel any better about their situation, but he could show them everything in detail so it is done properly and they don’t get in to any trouble, and he can give Mason’s personal pets personal information on how to keep him happy and avoid his sadism, it’s the only way he can help.

“How long have you been here?”

“One thousand five hundred and twenty five days! I started out as Mason’s pet too, but I don’t think he took too kindly to my attitude… look Will I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that it isn’t as bad as you think because it is, but being Mason’s personal pet is better than being open to all club members. I think you can imagine why… The best you can hope for here is following the rules because if you don’t it gets bad, and I mean really bad… trust me I know that more than anyone in here.” The fact that Randall had been here so long diminished Will’s hopes of escape even more, but it also raised more questions than answers, if the guy can help him find his feet though then so be it, there is always a way to escape, and knowledge is power.

The bar was completely empty at present, it was only nine am, two hours before it opened leaving plenty of time to go through the rules. Will took a seat on the stool beside Randall but before he could ask any questions a man walked through behind the bar carrying a crate of bottles, Randall didn’t seem to have the same hated look for this one though. “Good morning Franklyn! This is Will, Mason’s new pet.” Will despised being labelled as Mason’s pet, but the way Randall said it didn’t invoke the same levels of anger because he didn’t seem to state it as a fact, more a categorisation which was apparently needed in this place.

“Good morning Randall! Hello Will.” Franklyn greeted the pair with a bright smile that turned slightly sympathetic when his gaze met Will’s bruising cheek before he turned to place the crate on the bar.

“Ok I will give it to you straight, there are three categories here… some guys work here voluntarily but they are owned by the club members that visit, most are here against their will like us and we are owned by Mason and we live here to work here, but club members can use us how they wish, except you, you fall into the category of a privately owned pet. Most club members that visit have a privately owned pet, they own many others but their pet is the prized possession, but all participate in stage and private dances as a kind of competition between them, you know, who has the best and all that! But touching by anyone other than their owner is absolutely forbidden.”

“So Mason is expecting me to participate in stage and private dances? As in take my clothes off? What little I have on anyway!?”

“Yep! And no! The dances yes, but no you can’t be naked with anyone except him.”

“Well that isn’t happening.”

“I was exactly the same as you, but you learn quickly that the dancing is the lesser evil.”

“I don’t care what he does to me I would rather die.”

“You will care I promise. Look I can’t force you to do anything none of them can, all I can do is give you the facts so you can make an informed choice, and I can also tell you ways to make your new shitty existence a little more bearable, but most importantly how to avoid the barbaric punishments.” Will didn’t want to hear it, he didn’t want to hear any of it, all he wanted was to wake up from this nightmare but he nodded anyway in hopes of any kind of plan out of here.

“Ok well you get paid in tips for the dances but Mason will take the majority of it, however you can spend the money left over at the bar on food and drinks… it’s better than eating out of bowls anyway, as I can imagine that’s how Mason will be serving your food if you have had any yet anyway, it makes the refusal to eat and starvation less painful. Absolutely no club members are allowed to touch you in anyway, and if it happens it WILL be your fault no matter what the circumstances, you will be punished for it so be very wary of that! The ones like us are quite nice but usually keep themselves… dwelling I guess. The voluntary guy’s here however will make your life a living hell if you let them, they are spoilt assholes stemming from there role of ‘prized possession’ there owners basically give them whatever they want and they are happy to please them for the extravagance, so just give as good as you get and you should be fine. NEVER insult Mason to anyone, especially not to the voluntary guys or even the ones here against their will as even some of them will snitch to get rewards from time to time.”

“Ok, so what are the punishments?” Will had never felt so alone, so lost... and this was only the beginning. The beginning of the pain, the beginning of the suffering and the endless congo line of torture that was in store for him.

“Depending on the severity they vary, a few of Mason’s personal favorites are hog tying you from behind and leaving you in a cold dark room for hours or days, whippings, starvation, pen training and the rack… I’m not sure if you know but Mason owns a pig farm, he’s like obsessed with them! He conducts some seriously fucked up experiments with them. Pen training is basically stripping you naked and leaving you in a crowded piglet pen for days and it’s nasty… but the rack is something you want to avoid entirely.” The change in Randall’s tone was painful and apparent when he spoke of the last two, emotional pain isn’t felt the way a cut or bruise is, it is so much different and only the person it affects can tell it’s there, sometimes the pain is at the back of a person’s mind like a pulse but other times it pushes itself forward demanding attention, stinging with every breath they take. Just like now, throughout the conversation this was the first time actual pain could be seen in Randall’s face and Will dreaded the knowledge of the rack.

“The rack, well the rack is something you are tied to for the sexual enjoyment of the pigs and the club members who enjoy watching it. As I said, barbaric.” The information turned Will’s stomach, he had pretty much connected the dots already, he probably should have spared Randall the pain of saying it out loud.

Randall spent the next two hours explaining everything in detail until the lights were dimmed and the music started, a light wisp of fog began to creep across the floor and fill the room when the doors in the back of the club opened and boy’s clad in glitter and silk shorts of all color’s entered to await the seedy clients that followed shortly thereafter. As the music began, so did the dancers. With each swaying movement of their hips, with each alluring twist of their body, they told a story. Their story was one of entrapment yet beauty, bringing the audience to lust. The smoke twisted in its artistic way, forming curls in the gloom, illuminated only by the age-speckled bar lights, the members seemed to analyse each bottle along the back wall of the bar before selecting a hue of amber liquid in their inverted bottles.

Will and Randall sat at the back of the club for the remainder of the day as he explained every member in detail, what they liked and what they didn’t, he would point out the ones to Will that would attempt to touch regardless of the rules before moving on to the dancers that would snitch and mock, by the end of the day Will knew what would be required of him and what would happen if he refused but still hadn’t chosen his response to Mason. It was only when Cordell sought Will out to return him to his captor did the serious thought begin.

Will never really had a choice.

Lecter castle four weeks later…

Visiting the old family castle again was something Hannibal never thought he would do in this life time, but after weeks of no contact from Chiyo he deemed the situation dire enough to reject his apprehensions. Even after so long the vicinity seemed untouched by the usual hustle and bustle of the small, polluted, metropolitan city. It was strange, being here again after so long. Despite how long Hannibal had been away, he still remembered everything about the place, walking down the muddy track his heart sinks to imagine what awaits him at the end, it can’t be anything good. The negative memories Hannibal chose to store in the deepest depths of his mind comes with a cost, he wants to let them go because as addictive as they feel, once lessons are learnt there is nothing in them of value, but he can’t, so instead he stores them away for future analysis. That is why he kept the man for so long, he wasn’t ready to deal with that yet, that way he becomes well balanced and in control of himself, able to appreciate each moment as a gift. 

Walking within the walls Hannibal sees nothing but his childhood, there are no cobwebs here, no dust or decrepitude, just memories. Those memories fade when he enters the basement, its another reason he chose that room, there is no fondness to tarnish down there, only a room Misha had been so scared to enter as a child… it seemed apt to entrap her predator within those walls for all eternity. Hannibal didn’t have to walk far to find what he was looking for, there on the ground lies Chiyoh, utterly still, eyes open as if admiring the heavens, but there is no peace in her expression. As his footfalls approach she remains still and a cursory glance is enough to know she is dead, she's been dead for some time now. 

At first glance the cause isn't apparent but the chances of it being natural causes are remote. Young women of Chiyoh’s talent don't just turn up dead for no good reason, and not in this circumstance. There is no such thing as a beautiful body when death has claimed the soul, there is no romantic corpse. Death is death. The flesh rots, the bones to follow, the hair matting into the soil. It is life that is beautiful, life we cherish, the soul we nurture. 

So this is no longer Chiyoh, this is a corpse, one that was almost devoid of skin and pitted by burrowing insects, Hannibal walked closer to pluck the well placed card from the cold bone that was once fingers, it was a pass, but to what he didn’t know, he just knew who the address belonged to… Mason Verger. It was a name that did, and always will invoke levels of rage Hannibal wasn’t sure he could feel. Clearly this was the aristocrat’s doing and he didn’t even need to question why, nor did he need to examine the isolated prison to know the prisoner has gone, as far as revenge goes Mason couldn’t have cut deeper if he had tried.

Hannibal lifted Chiyoh’s vessel slightly and determined the cause of death, some would see a bullet hole, he saw the person around it, he saw the once perfect skin, the mouth that must have known laughter at one time and spoke with nothing but softness. Hannibal saw the girl that wanted the retribution as much as he did.

The soul had been recalled to life’s maker and what was left is simply bones and flesh, but still this was no way to honour her and her lifetimes plight, so, using a blanket Hannibal wraps and lifts Chiyoh, carrying her to the furnace that would still work. Feeling her dead weight, Hannibal had never experienced grief this bad before, mostly because he had lost a big part of himself and his life’s work with Mason’s revenge. Misha was gone, her captor freed, Chiyoh was dead, the design was broken. Shattered really, and there was no way he could get that part back, it was all gone, vanished in thin air. 

Hannibal couldn’t help but notice the cruel irony in Misha’s gravestone as he scattered Chiyoh’s ashes on top of the soil. It stood there with its youthful glow, strong, erect, ready to last a hundred years or more thanks to Chiyoh’s care. Yet she had already perished and begun her inevitable decay. It was something permanent to mark something so tragic. What remaining flesh after honour was buried returns to the soil, the memories evaporate, her life extinguished and now her justice keepers had followed.

Mason’s mansion one week later…

Walking through the door Hannibal scanned the upscale bar, it looked exactly like someone would expect a bar to look, it just had the added sleeze that the elites so obviously wanted, overrun with smoke, perfectly placed neon lights, and a high deep wood stage filled with shiny silver poles. It hadn’t taken much to pass security, holding up the simple pass left in Chiyoh’s grasp sufficed. Hannibal took a seat at the bar and was greeted by a jolly, albeit slightly chubby man. “Hello there I’m Franklyn what can I get for you?”

“Mason Verger, he is expecting me… it’s Hannibal.”

“Of course one moment please.” Hannibal watched as the man picked up a phone behind the bar out of ear shot and walked back over in seconds.

“I have informed Mr Verger of your arrival, can I get you a drink whilst you wait?”

“A Bâtard Montrachet would be most appreciated.”

“Excellent choice! Coming right up! I haven’t seen you around here before, are you just passing through?” Franklyn placed the crystal glass on top of a crisp white napkin and pretty much leant over the bar in anticipation of conversation.

“I’m not too sure yet.” Hannibal tried to keep the conversation to a minimum, not wanting to associate with anyone in this building other than the one intended.

“Well I’m Franklyn, the bar manager here! It’s nice to meet you.” Franklyn offered out a hand to the man in which Hannibal shook with no real enthusiasm. Luckily the guy continued plying what seemed to be the regulars with some exceptional alcohol, Hannibal will give respect where it’s due and that respect is for Mason’s selection of impeccable alcohol choices. 

Hannibal turned to survey the large club, men were scattered around in luxurious leather chairs clad in even more extravagant suits and tuxedos, but perhaps the most disturbing of all was the young men knelt beside them, barely dressed if they were. Hannibal was unsure what he had just walked in to but sees there a large number of people here against there will, that fact only became more apparent when the clock struck eleven am and the doors to the back of the club opened and some very young men entered the room, clad in glitter and silk shorts of all colors. 

As the music began, so did the dancers, seemingly approaching the seated men in the club and at the bar. With each swaying movement of their hips, with each alluring twist of their body, they told a story. Their story was one of entrapment yet beauty, bringing the audience to predatory lust. No one knew of the horrors the young men had endured, only them. There had been many.

No one seemed to know this was not their desired path in life but Hannibal, or more to the point they didn’t seem to care. All the crowd saw was expendable beauty as they gracefully twirled around one another, seductively moving their torsos and hips as the elder men pawed at them. Moving like ribbons in the wind, they were timeless. Elegance at its finest and pain in its truest form. They float and twist weightlessly across the room, poised and balanced like they were made of silk all for the attention of the men with money.

After watching the scene play out, Hannibal turned back around to scan the bottles weighted to the wall, it was a less uncomfortable view.

Lighting a cigarette, he inhaled that grey stench, the odour that foretold of tar-infested lungs and his future deathbed. Hannibal had never been a smoker unless it was times of personal severe internal conflict like now, he came with a purpose and he wants that purpose back, so he can put it back where it belongs. Mason had taken his life’s work, an issue he had been drowning in since his much younger days, yet now in adulthood he chose to remain attached to those chains rather than striving to release them. 

Like a canon, Hannibal’s chest pushes out smoke in rapid, deliberate bursts. Hazy rings float upward, distorting and twisting along their wayward path. When perfectly executed, smoking is its own art form. The smoker does not work with hands but instead with his lungs, throat, and lips. The sweet taste puts a person in a state of utter relaxation while adding poision to their insides, he watches as the smoke rhythmically dissipates, one ring after another, drifting to add with the mix of fog in the club.

Hannibal is lost in his own world until the dancer about to go on stage is announced, the name intrigues him. It’s the same name as the young FBI agent that never appeared for his post, a case Hannibal had been enlisted to help with in the assumption he had become the victim of the Chesapeake ripper. Now, it could have been a coincidence as the name is considered common… but instances of coincidence are very few and far between.

“Gentleman please welcome a personal favorite of myself… and the club of course! Will!!” Hannibal couldn’t help but turn and look at the announcer, a little shocked at his sleezy comment, but then again this was a seedy place, he was about to turn back around but curiosity got the better of him.

The second Will walked on stage the club lights dimmed, the only offer of light was the three floodlights beaming down on the perfectly chiselled figure. Wolf whistles echoed the room as he began to move, flowing in graceful arcs, limbs in constant motion, painting a picture sound alone can never achieve. The young man was beautiful… just as beautiful as he was in the picture Jack showed to Hannibal. The disappearance had come as a shock, and many people were looking for Will, but most were waiting for him to turn up in some ghastly showpiece.

From the seats at the bar, Will looks as though he's floating more than anything, especially when the fog reaches the foot of the stage, he twirls without effort in a serenity the audience seems to crave. 

They come to see the dancers, to see perfect male forms such as this one, simply so they can think about it later. Hannibal imagines It takes great strength to make such activity look as graceful as Will does, total exertion with a smile that extends all the way to the eyes. The missing agents ability to smile like that through a situation as horrific as human trafficking astounded him, their was an instant respect for Will’s refusal to be crushed, he remained graceful in his hell, clearly he hadn’t given up hope of escape. 

Really, Hannibal tried to turn away. But the man before him radiated with nothing but grace, even under the forced circumstances, he truly had the man enthralled. Will was mesmerizing in every way. Every laser and light ghosted over his skin perfectly, highlighting every curve and ab. Only towards the last minute when the men began to stuff Will’s shorts with fists full of dollar’s did he look away.

Hannibal continued to sip at the wine, curious as to what Mason wants in exchange for the man he took, credit where credit is due though, Mason went to a lot of effort and in an ingenious way to gain leverage as revenge for his involvement with Margot. When Will props himself on the bar with his fore arms it pulls Hannibal from his thoughts, he smiles brightly at the bar manager Franklyn who smiles just as wide and moves from the two regulars he was talking to towards Will. “Good shift Will?”

The young agent can’t answer before Mason appears and rests his full body against Will from behind, wrapping an arm around the front of his chest while the other circled his lower stomach. Will’s smile drops, his apparent ease evaporates quickly and looks nothing but uncomfortable. “I think my boy had a good night tonight Franklyn… don’t you think??”

“Yes, I think he did.” Franklyn’s cheery demeanour always fell flat when he was in Mason’s presence, he may be able to leave and go home at the end of the night unlike the other captives here but it didn’t make him any less of a prisoner himself. When he had gotten himself in to a financial bind Mason had offered to pay his debts with a reasonable re-payment plan, Franklyn just hadn’t been informed that he would owe nearly triple his debts with the added interest. Refusal was an option, so was disappearing but then his family would bare the brunt of the punishment, nobody aside from the elites were really there through choice.

Mason always took more than three quarters of the captives earnings as rent to stay in the small rooms they were abducted in to, food, electricity, everything really... they were basically paying for the privilege of being held hostage. Mason would let them keep small amounts though to pay for drinks and food at the bar in the guise of a gracious offer. So, in a sense, every cent they earned went to Mason anyway. 

Mason snatched Will’s entire pay from his hands, only handing back around a hundred or so dollars out of nearly a thousand, that wouldn’t last an hour in this bar, they had to save up for the privilege of a few drinks. Will was Mason’s personal pet so he was only allowed to participate in stage and private dances, touching was forbidden, the rest of the men owned by Mason were there to please the patrons however they wanted, and that’s where the real money was.

Hannibal noted how Will went from smiling at the man behind the bar to looking terrified and ashamed in a matter of seconds before seeming to go into some sort of silent panic. Eventually Will was sumnond for a private dance and Mason took the stool beside Hannibal.

“I must say Doctor Lecter I am a little surprised it has taken you this long to realise your property has gone missing… I expected this visit a few weeks ago, I almost gave up hope of you coming to claim him. Tell me, what must a man do to deserve almost thirty years of silent, isolated condemnation?”

“You are an astute man Mason, I am fairly confident that you will have figured that out, so why don’t we avoid wasting each other’s time and you can tell me what you are achieving by committing this ungracious, despicable act?”

“I found it prudent to involve myself in some of your affairs as you were so clearly invested in mine, now that I have proved myself a worthy opponent in your game of psychological chess it would probably be prudent for you to give me your word of staying out of my business and I could offer to hand him back over to you, then we could go our separate ways… but where would be the fun in that? I also think its safe to say we cannot be trusted to honour those would be terms anyway, so, now I have something you want, I can openly tell you there are some attributes to yourself that I want… so I am offering up a trade, you now have a season pass to my wonderful little venue here so why don’t you get yourself a dance? Maybe even have a little fun in a private room? On me of course, these boy’s or even men depending on your preference will do anything you ask whilst you take some time to think about things, and then, you can come back and see me when you have.”

With that Mason left the bar, leaving Hannibal to finish his drink and ponder the statement, not long after the man disappeared Will returned from a private room and sat one stool away from Hannibal. 

“Ignore Mason, he’s in one of his moods… two of them were sent to the rack this evening for putting too much ice in his drink!” Will nodded and counted out what he had left after his private dance, “Well I can afford a few drinks and two bar meals this week! I guess it’s better than eating out of the bowls…” 

“I can spot you for tonight Will, don’t worry about paying it back.”

“No, thanks Franklyn but I will be fine… Have you seen Randall tonight?” 

“Yes, he was one of the two sent to the rack, twelve hours I think.”

“For too much ice? Damn… here put a drink behind the bar for him I’m guessing he will need one!” Will handed over some cash so Randall could at least get a drink after he had served his time on the rack. When Mason first forced him to work within these walls Will never contemplated making a friend here but he had a few, but Randall’s friendship more than anyone’s meant a great deal to him. The guy always listened without judgement and never commented until Will spun his heart out, then he would put down his beer, look him in the eye and give him advice like the brother Will had never had. Every one person here against their will needed that, a friend, a support system, a person to vent to and offer comfort when needed. It was how they survived.

Randall never mocked Will when he would speak of escape, when he claimed he would get out, mockery was cruel unless it was the banter needed to raise a smile, and Will was the same with him, because telling them their dreams of escape was nothing more than a fantasy made you as bad as the captors in this place, the only times those cruel words were uttered is from the voluntary boys and men that could come and go. Randall never told a soul even a hint of what they discussed, he was a black hole for gossip, a true friend, one of a kind and Will was glad to have him. Every person needs a harbour, a secure attachment that brings the light out of pain, without it life there became an extended torture of the one they already endured, they were already surviving, not living. Were it not for a good friend, there would be no relief, no emotional morphine.

Hannibal couldn’t help but overhear the wretched conversation, but it wasn’t his problem, he had enough of his own right now even if it was with a common enemy.

“Forget that drink Franklyn, just water please, I’m going to save it and have a drink with Randall tomorrow.” Without missing a beat Hannibal slid a hundred-dollar bill over, that was two nights pay on a bad night in this place. Hannibal never took his eyes from his finger circling the crystal wine glass.

“I don’t take charity thanks.” Will slid it back and turned back to Franklyn.

Hannibal slid it back in one brisk movement. “I wouldn’t call it charity, I would say you earned it.” With that he thanked Franklyn, leaving the same amount in a tip for the drink and left the bar.

“Who was that?” 

“I have no idea, I haven’t seen him in all the time that I have worked here, but he seems to have business with Mason… and he doesn’t seem to like him.” Will snorted out a laugh when Franklyn whispered the last part behind his hand, he doesn’t think anyone likes Mason, every snob that visited the place just seemed to tolerate the man for the fully functioning strip brothel he has going here. Will decided to order a couple of strong drinks, dutch courage before he has to go upstairs and please his captor. 

Will had to admit the man was good looking, he had medium length hair and in only that short glance Will saw the man’s eyes were a mesmerising hazel with flecks of brown throughout. His face was strong and defined and unlike him, his face was neat and smooth. Subtle muscles seemed to ripple beneath the broad shoulders hidden beneath the smart dress shirt and suit. 

Will knew, without a doubt, that he was trouble…


	3. Gracious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will realises Mason's cruelty may be masking some uncomfortable feelings... does Hannibal share his views on Mason and could the Doctor be his way out or is he more involved than he is letting on?
> 
> Will suffers brutally at Mason's hands when his pet's over familiarity towards Hannibal brings him embarrassment in front of his equals...
> 
> Can Hannibal carry out his plan and knowing leave Will to his suffering?
> 
> A big thank you to everyone that has read this story! Especially to the people who left a kudos! I really appreciate it as I know this shipping isn't an over popular one, I hope people enjoy the latest chapter and as always please let me know your thoughts!

Hannibal analysed Mason’s compromise from every possible angle before coming up with his own solutions, he was a tactile genius, no possible outcome or hinderance to a situation was ever overlooked without an in depth analysis. His thought process was truly special with a malevolent streak that would annihilate anyone or anything that dare stand in the way of a design.

Mason was no match for him, a simple nat that had dared to commit the most ungracious of acts against him, he hadn’t just broken a design, Mason had destroyed his life’s work, an act that would not go unpunished. Hannibal’s power was unique, he could bend and sculpture his words and actions until most believed they were breathing just because he allowed them to do so, he could make every reality into a favorable situation for him, making every soul accountable and guilty for their sin… and Mason would be no different.

Hannibal propped up the same place at the bar the next night and was served by the same bubbly bar manager but maintained his indifferent composure. Hannibal held no interest in exchanging pleasantries with any member of this ‘club’, it was inhumane. “Nice to see you back so soon! Same again?” 

“Yes, Mason and the drink please.” Franklyn simply smiled before picking up the phone and then moved to pour the same prestigious wine as the previous night. Upon hearing the same announcement, Hannibal’s curiosity got the best of him and he couldn’t help but turn around to watch when the missing agent was called to the stage.

Will really did have the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks, even under a captive setting Will held himself with nothing less than grace. The wolf whistles began in unison with a barrage of ‘take it off baby!’ but Hannibal guesses he must get used to that, the natural expression of Will changes when every eye looked his way, instead replaced with an overcompensating nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. It didn't help that he was so modest with it, it just made the men fall for him all the more. 

Will’s body swayed with elegance under the low gradient lights, sliding down the pole like it was the only thing that existed in that moment, he commanded the entire stage, the entire audience’s focus, it was a modest elegance that was difficult to find. It invoked nothing but jealousy from the voluntary pets sprawled across their owner’s laps as their presence was completely ignored in favor of the show. Will smiled as though he were happy right down to his soul, like there is no part of him that sadness dwells, he moved in a seductive fashion and had no mannerisms that show damage of any kind, to a lustful onlooker Will was perfection right down to his micro-expressions, but Hannibal knew different, he saw the devastation, the gnawing need to run from his prison. Hannibal always saw every element of a situation, including the jealousy.

Envy is the art of counting another man's blessings instead of your own, and from where Hannibal was sitting, Will had no blessings to count so the jealousy was unfounded. 

Will knew wasn’t well liked by most other captives there regardless of their status, jealousy Randall would tell him and he was right, Will wasn’t just handsome, he held a rare beauty that enthralled the men here, especially as he cannot be touched… it was enamouring.

Hannibal caught sight of Mason before he turned back around, the aristocrat was surrounded by apparent friends, even in that brief moment it was clear the man was narcissistic from his high end wardrobe right down to his mannerisms with his supposed equals, he demanded complete devotion from his friends and although he acted bored when they complemented him, he really demanded it, Mason would often sulk if it weren't supplied in a constant drip-feed. The aristocrat simply looked down on the less fortunate as if they were sub-human, Hannibal guesses they were to Mason, nothing more than property. 

Once facing the bar Hannibal made brief, albeit direct eye contact with Franklyn eyeing him up. Not surprising though as he guesses it isn’t often non club members frequent the place.

“Will doesn’t look very happy to be here, one could venture a guess that he isn’t here by choice.” Franklyn shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, unwilling to offer up any information as he doesn’t know Hannibal and he doesn’t know what Mason wants him to know and doesn’t. 

“He just looks that way sometimes, but he’s fine.”

“I struggle to believe that, as I think most would.” Franklyn went to grab another wine for Hannibal and placed a bourbon beside it when he saw Mason approach before leaving to collect some glasses, a soundless excuse to leave the situation, Hannibal didn’t need to question the extra drink as Mason sat down.

“He’s actually my favorite toy you know… and he loves what he does, my ownership of Will makes him a favorite around here and for that he’s great full, one suspects his popularity is the forbidden fruit analogy. My pet does seem to enjoy your company though, let’s hope those are just rumours I am hearing.” 

“I have business with you Mason, and I am polite to anyone that I meet.”

“I would expect no less from you Doctor, but please let me know if Will becomes… over familiar, with your presence.” Mason believed he was untouchable, a beacon of power in alpha form, but every time he spoke, Hannibal would revel in his weakness. Narcissism comes of having a fragile ego, the person builds walls of indifference and constantly seek a higher status to hide their vulnerable self, striking out, being aggressive. All traits of which can be destroyed easily with intelligence. The narcissist loses that battle every day, always choosing to use their primitive ‘me first’ instincts over their more highly evolved, self-controlled counterparts. 

“So, Doctor Lecter have you had a chance to consider my offer?”

“No offer was clearly established Mason, you gave me broad analysis of the situation to which I could agree to nothing, so, define your terms.” 

“I am proposing a trade Doctor Lecter, how are you with tracking people down?” 

“That would depend on a variety of factors, but you yourself do not appear to struggle in that area so I am curious as to why you would need me.”

“It wasn’t difficult to track down your interests Doctor Lecter because I knew where to look, my men may have brute strength, but unfortunately they only possess a limited intelligence that most certainly does not extend to finding the people I would like in my custody, no, that will take a great deal of forethought and intelligence, characteristics you hold and I wish to make use of.” Mason dropped six files down in front of Hannibal as he finished off his bourbon, fully expecting the man to refuse and attempt to get the man back through alternate measures. 

“These six people have committed some particularly grievous acts against myself and I find it prudent that they suffer for it, if you locate the whereabouts of these people then I will return your property it’s that simple… I will even be so nice as to forget your over involvement with Margot! Of course you can refuse Doctor Lecter, and I will just discard of your interest... the choice is yours.” Hannibal peered down at the files, happy to play along with the aristocrat for now. 

Will approached the bar after his stage slot, it was the rules, if Mason was in the club Will was beside him or on his lap, unless Mason walked away, then he was free to be away from him so Will usually sat with Randall. Neither of them were really liked by anyone but each other, Will was envied, Randall was a little scary… it was clear there was some mental imbalance, but Will enjoyed his friendship regardless.

Mason pulled Will into his lap the moment he saw him and inhaled at the young agents neck, it was an instant wave of arousal for him but nausea for Will, a feeling that he had worked so hard to ignore, Mason’s creeping hands, his coarse stubble against his neck and shoulders offered nothing but rising bile. His words were another level of humiliation, Will had noticed that Mason only got extra demeaning in front of other people, just like now.

“Another good night young man! I think we should just chain you to the stage, you would earn us thousands… maybe I should even start renting you out for personal use too? I’m sure every man in this room would pay good money to spend some quality time with you… but lucky for you I don’t share my toys!” Will didn’t even attempt to stand, it had taken a long time and a great out amount of self-preservation to train himself not to pull away from Mason’s creeping fingers, he was owned, he no longer had any say in what happened to his body. One thing Will would never be able to train himself out of though was the internal disgust, the rising bile with each violating touch. 

Mason just smiled happily as he ground himself into Will’s barely covered body and continued his conversation with Hannibal, he was shameless. The young agent looked more ashamed and uncomfortable by the second, even more so when the man trailed a hand over his groin. 

“Anyway Hannibal, those are my terms… the choice is yours, you have twenty four hours to decide before I put your interest in the ground.” Mason eventually let go of Will when he had taken the majority of his money and walked to greet some friends at the other side of the room.

“Are you ok Will?”

“I’m fine Franklyn don’t worry!” Will attempted to sound cheery as the attentive bar manager placed a scotch and lemonade on the bar for him, Will moved to hand over payment and smiled awkwardly when Franklyn simply shook his hand in a declining gesture, it didn’t seem much, but the gesture was indeed a large one, Mason was money obsessed so free drinks for anyone is not permitted, especially the workers.

Will and Franklyn chatted away as Hannibal kept his eyes focused on the ashtray he was slowing filling with each passing minute, the only reprieve of this place was the wine, a plan was set in place and that meant spending more time here than he wished. When Franklyn left to serve a crowd that entered for the evenings shows, a heavy silence settled over the remaining two, thicker than the obvious uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Will felt he should speak to the man after his generosity the previous night, but he also knew the man wasn’t a paying customer so given his status, Will knows there would be trouble if Mason knew there had been conversation. 

That didn’t matter though, Hannibal could be a way out of this hell hole and Will is happy to grab any exit that presents itself regardless of the punishments. In truth though, the young agent was intrigued by the brooding man who seemed to have no interest in anything there other than Mason and the drink. Unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around, both Will and Hannibal tried to avoid catching each other’s glances, Hannibal was a little unsure as to why he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, he didn’t owe Will any form of escape or conversation. Yes, the circumstances within the mansion were depraved and certainly not something he would ever want a part of, but it’s not his business.

“So, are you working with Mason?” Will blurted out, if this man really hated Mason as much as he seemed to, then he has to be way out of here.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to, your smarter than that.”

“Hmmm, I haven’t been called smart for a while now… can I have one of those?” Hannibal slid the pack and lighter over when he saw Will eyeing up the carton, allowing him to take one. The silence settled again but a little less uncomfortable this time.

“You shouldn’t smoke it’s bad for your health.” Will couldn’t help but laugh at the hypocrisy in the statement as he eyed up the cigarette in Hannibal’s hand.

“So, do you live around here?” Will quizzed as he took another drink of his scotch and lemonade.

“No.”

“What did you do then? You know, to end up in a situation with Mason?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” 

“I’m just trying to figure out if I’m talking with an actual dangerous person or an amateur criminal like Mason.” The coy response from the young agent amused the stressed out Hannibal.

“What would make you think I am a dangerous person Will?”

“I thought I shouldn’t ask questions I already knew the answer to?” Hannibal couldn’t help but smirk at the young agent as he tried to hide his own, many found it easy to trust Hannibal, he had an outgoing personality, but it was his conniving persona that made him dangerous, he hid his true self like a snake covered with leaves. There was no indication of evil intent, no hint of deviant motives but Will knew without a shadow of a doubt they were there. Hannibal simply hid behind a congenial mask of concern even as he planned to control others and never wasted a minute on anyone who was not in a position that he coveted.

“How about you Will? Did you live around here?” The brief sideways glance told Will Hannibal knew much more than he had let on. 

“Why?”

“I am just curious.” Maybe this was Will’s chance, the man was finally talking... but if Hannibal did know exactly what was going on, he hasn’t done a thing to stop it, so maybe he was just as bad as Mason? Or maybe Mason had hired him to entrap him in to breaking the rules, he isn’t overlooking any possibility right now, but still, Will decides it’s worth that risk.

“I get the feeling you know why I’m here, and if you aren’t doing anything to stop it, then you can’t object too much.”

“I know more than you think Mr Graham, and I can assure you that I do not agree with anything that transpires in this building, it’s just not my business.” Will’s internal panic rises, now he is unsure if Hannibal is a friend or foe.

“Well breaks over, enjoy your night, thanks for the cigarette.” Hannibal simply nodded as Will moved to walk around the club approaching different men, it was time for private dancers and he didn’t want Mason catching wind of his conversation with Hannibal, he isn’t even sure of their conversation, if Hannibal knows who he is and hasn’t said anything then yes, he is as bad as Mason, but how would he know?

Hannibal tried not to focus on the multiple men Will had to take to private rooms, he was by far the most popular and witnesses many looks of lust and guesses that it is in fact the whole wanting what you can’t have effect, Will was ‘owned’ by Mason and the fact the aristocrat implied they ‘should’ rent him out implies that Will wasn’t allowed to touch, or be touched by anyone other than Mason, so it wasn’t surprising that Mason was correct, and Will was looked upon as forbidden fruit. Hannibal decided to order one last drink at twelve am with a purpose. The best way to figure out a stance of attack is to first familiarise yourself with the situation, every detail of it, so that’s exactly what Hannibal did. 

First he turned to survey the members present, taking in their faces, their clothing, next was the bar itself, Hannibal looked around every inch of the wooden walls and floor just as Will got on stage to do his last routine, he didn’t watch this one, instead he continued his analysis of every door and window as potential entry and exit points, with the guards that stood watch. 

Just as Hannibal finished off his drink and put on his jacket to leave, the song came to an end, he arrived at the exit just as Will walked off the stage and held out his hand for the young agent to take, helping him down the last few steps. Will was shocked at the gentlemanly act but complied, grasping it as he stepped down onto the floor. It wasn’t something he hadn’t previously seen in this place and just before Will could pull back, Hannibal brought it to his lips to place a gentle kiss upon the back of his hand, an action he couldn’t really explain. 

Will felt his face flush warm, he felt every hair on the back of his neck stand up straight when they made eye contact. Something fluttered in his stomach, he really didn't know what that feeling was, it wasn’t a cheesy sense of love or lust, it was more an excitement and a hope of potential freedom. The feeling was a bizarre sensation regardless of its reason, but it wasn't at all unpleasant… maybe it was hope? Something Will hadn’t felt for a while now, there was kindness in his smile, a gentleness. In that moment Will knew if he spoke, his words would fumble and he wouldn't be able to make his usual witty remarks. Right there and then, he was at a loss for words, the only thing that came out of his mouth was a shaky ‘thank you’ before the man disappeared out the door.

The night wasn’t great, sometimes Mason would only play with Will for a few minutes, a few right movements of his tongue and Mason would push him away, but then there were the nights that went on for just that. The night… Will hated them evenings and this was seemingly going to be one of them as he orally gratified Mason for hours. 

Once finished Mason did something a little different this time, Will wasn’t pushed down to the dog bed, instead he was pulled to lay against Mason’s chest who rest a soft hand against Will’s cheek, forcing unwanted eye contact before leaning in to press his lips against Will’s, the intimate action could be confused as a loving gesture. Mason pulled back but kept Will close, brushing a strand of brown hair away from his face and held the eye contact for a few more seconds before resting the agents face against his chest. In seconds Mason’s body is moulded to Will’s own, sharing the man’s body heat was a sickening feeling.

The heat from Mason’s fingers crept into Will’s consciousness as he stroked them slowly across his flesh, Will wanted nothing more than to pull away. Touch, he hated it, it’s an invasion, an unwanted intimacy that Mason was apparently craving, he needs someone who craves his touch… his affection, but Will wasn’t that person.

When Will woke the next morning it felt as though he had only slept for a few hours, he had, hours into the night of dancing for the pleasure of sick men then coming upstairs to please another was exhausting, this entire existence was. Will blinked a few times before looking around, even after a few months had past Will was still adjusting to his new surroundings, every morning without fail during the haze of descending sleep Will would wake as though nothing ever happened. He often found himself looking at the different color’s on the walls, the bedroom furniture as if it had been the place he just moved to, until… wait… after those blissful few moments, his memories would always return to him and he would truly remember where he was and the grief would take over once more. 

Will was naked stemming from the ‘no clothes in bed rule’ but even when clothes were permitted it was nothing more than a pair of skimpy shorts, he was never covered anymore and he hated it, he hated been treated like a slave, but he puts his game face on regardless because sultry wont free him from his shackles, he will never give up the fight for freedom, but he has given up the fight against Mason, the repercussions of punishment just wasn’t worth it. 

Will is yet to be violated in the worst possible way, but he knows it’s coming, and soon. Randall had given him some advice though by pointing out that keeping Mason orally gratified will help Will avoid that ultimate violation because as Randall puts it… Mason can get it up, but not keep it up for sex, not for longer than a couple of minutes anyway, so the aristocrat tends to avoid that humiliation altogether and it seems to be working so far, Will suspects it’s close because that action has become less and less, Mason has instead replaced it with Will cuddled into him as he watches TV, stroking his fingers over the young agents body. 

Will wasn’t woke to his usual nudge in his side courtesy of Mason’s foot, instead it’s the soft grinding against his bare body, it’s the first time he had woken in bed with the man and the situation felt daunting. Will is still half asleep but understands Mason will be awake soon and he should have his head in his groin, he knows the routine by now and it was just easier to comply. Will can’t help but close his eyes for what seems like a few more seconds but wakes in a panic sometime later and quickly sat up in the bed when he realises Mason was no longer beside him. Will’s heart pounds against his chest knowing he had disobeyed a rule, and probably the most important one. 

Will looked around the room to see Mason sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, his legs are extended but crossed and he has his fingers intertwined with a look of anger, not only on his face but also in his eyes, Will bowed his head and felt the tears well up, punishment is coming but what will it be? He hasn’t broken a rule this serious before and leniency isn’t Mason’s strong suit. The fear of the rack pulsates in Will’s mind, anything but that. 

"You overslept Will, I was nice enough to allow you in my bed and I’m thanked with disobedience." Even looking at the floor Will could feel Mason’s gaze pierce every inch of him, he was angry. "I will have to punish you for that.” Will quickly takes his place and kneels at Mason’s feet beginning to nuzzle his face into the man’s leg like a dog begging for forgiveness, he supposes that’s exactly what he was, but the degrading action was worth it if it lightened the punishment. Nothing more is said, Mason simply attaches the leash to the collar and Will is dragged down to the dining hall completely naked.

Instead of crawling to his bowls in the corner Mason has Will kneel beside him, making it clear the young agent will not be eating this morning, the thoughts of his punishment force a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach so once again Will nuzzles Mason’s thigh with his cheek in an attempt at forgiveness, but a sharp nudge from man’s kneecap strikes Will’s temple hard, it hurt to the point he let out a small whimper, fear grips every cell when Mason grabbed Will by the scruff of his neck and pushed him as far down to the ground as his spine would allow.

“Stay still! And stay quiet mutt! You will learn to behave yourself because I am growing tired of your slacking ways.” Will did as Mason ordered and stayed still on the ground beside him until he was done with breakfast, once he had stood up from the table Will felt the leash hooked on to the collar and he was pulled back to the bedroom. 

“Now I warned you that there would be punishment for any rules broken, and I am a man of my word! Now, stand and face the wall, raise your arms and do not move. I would usually tie you in place but I think you having to hold your own position will add extra discomfort, and that is definitely what you deserve right now. I am not going to gag you Will, but you will not make any noises no matter what I do. If you fail to comply with these rules, I will secure you to the rack for the next week. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mason… Will raised his arms and bowed his head against the wall for stability, bracing himself as he listened to Mason retrieve something from one of the drawers in the night stand and return to standing behind him, Will still unsure what he has in his hand but is too scared to lift his head.

"You really disappointed me today Will. I understand that you didn't mean to, and if you take your punishment properly then I will forgive you. You have been such a good boy so far and I know you have tried so hard to be a good toy for me, but I will not accept careless mistakes like this morning. I understand it was a mistake and not outright disobedience which is why I am going to take it easy on you, however, it isn’t like I have given you any incentive to be obedient. Don't worry, we are going to change that right now.” Mason looked at the quivering form before him and the guilt comes in waves like gasoline in his guts, no matter how much distance Mason attempts to put between Will and his feelings, his attraction to the young agent remains a constant presence. Love is a weakening factor and one Mason avoids at all costs, he will never admit his unrequited feelings towards Will, instead they come out in the cruel acts.

“Your hatred of me is nothing but a transformation of your shame and insecurities Will... it is all you deny about yourself yet lack the courage to face. It is far easier to lose yourself in the theatrics of your mind, telling yourself you hate it here, that you hate kneeling for me, but we both know that isn’t the case, you cast yourself as the victim because that is easier to swallow than even an ounce of truth… which is that you want this, and you know you do.” Mason stands behind Will for what felt like hours, until the young agent feels him bring the first lash down across his bare back.

CRACK!! Will struggles to suppress the scream that wants to escape as he feels the most intense physical pain he had have ever felt.

CRACK!! Will feels the second lash across his lower back and feels his knees go weak as he struggles to maintain his composure. 

CRACK!! Will feels the third lash across the back of his thighs and Mason repeated this pattern over and over again as the whip lashed at bare skin, Will wanted to scream into every one, but he knows that would only anger Mason further.

Mason finally stopped for a moment and heard the small relieved sound Will made. “We're not finished yet Will, we won’t be for a while.” Will’s entire body trembled from shock when he felt the blood trickle down past the open wounds, once again Mason raises his arm and brings the next lash just below his shoulder blade, the next was brought across Will’s ass, and the final one on the back of his thighs until finally Mason dropped the whip, Will doesn’t think he’d ever heard a more comforting sound. 

Will’s entire body burned, he could feel the welts on his skin rising, his arms ached from holding them above his head and decides this was by far the most brutal punishment he had received so far. Mason gently took Will’s wrists in his hands and lowered his arms back to his sides, he turned Will to gently lift his chin, forcing eye contact. “Do you have anything to say Will?” 

"Thank you Mason," Will said through the tears, "I'm sorry I overslept it will never happen again… and I’m sorry that you had to take time out of your day to punish me, I’m very grateful." Mason smiled and took Will’s face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together as he wiped away the tears with his thumbs, "Ok, I will accept your apology this time, don’t let it happen again.” Mason placed a degrading kiss to the end of Will’s nose, then placed his head against his shoulder, caressing his lower welted back with one hand as the other gently stroked at Will’s hair.

Will begins to calm until he feels Mason’s knee brought up to his groin violently, the aristocrat stepped away and let him crumple to the ground, doubled over, Will is unable to stop himself vomiting as his vision goes blurry.

Mason simply crouched down beside him and spoke gently. "Toy’s never oversleep, you took your punishment exceptionally well and you have made me very proud." Will lingered on the floor curled into the foetal position for a minute or two and Mason allowed this short solace, Will tried hard to remain composed, he tried to hold back the tears but couldn’t, instead he laid sobbing and shaking. 

"Now, take a few minutes to recover and clean-up."

"Thank you Mason.” Will replied weakly.

Mason watched as every spec of vomit was cleaned from the wooden floor, before he walked Will over to the wall opposite the bed, Will didn't even try to resist, he was pliant and languid under Mason's hands, he knew fighting would only make it worse.

“Kneel down, spread your knees as far as they will go and then make sure they touch the wall.” Will did as he was told, spreading his legs as far as they would go and rest his forehead against the wall too, Mason pulled him back for a second to grab his wrists and raised them high above Will’s head to also place his forearms flat against the surface.

The position was instantly uncomfortable, but it only got worse.

“Now now Will don’t be lazy… don’t sit back on your ankles, hover above them, there’s a good boy.” Again, Will moved into the requested position and was finally awkwardly pressed against the wall. Mason nodded in approval at the sight. “Spread your legs a little more.” Will whined when the man pulled them further apart himself.

“Stay there until I give you permission move.” Mason climbed back into the bed, lounging back as he turned on the TV weighted a few inches above Will’s head so he had the perfect view of both scenes playing out. Mason’s eyes switched every few minutes as he watched Will already struggling to hold the uncomfortable position, he grabbed the glass of bourbon from the night stand and lifted the tumbler to his lips sipping at the aged spirit, the alcohol tingled on his tongue, only adding to the pleasure as he watched the show. Will was completely out of line and he needed punishing, it was that simple.

After an hour Will’s breathing became louder, he knew why Mason had chosen this punishment, Randall was once in the same situation and forewarned him, it apparently gives a toy the time to think about what they did wrong, it teaches them to behave better in the future Will knows that. After four hours Mason was seriously impressed, Will’s entire body was trembling with ache, but still, he didn’t move. Not an inch, it was a pity Will was facing the wall as Mason would love to see that face as he put him through the paces.

“You’re an inspiration Will, I know men who have served in the army most of their lives that couldn’t handle an hour of this treatment.” Mason wouldn’t usually offer any kind of support, but felt it prudent with this level of stamina. Will really was taking his punishment without making much fuss, Mason knew it was torturous position, he had used it many times with a couple of other toys that didn’t work out too well. 

Will started to pant, the ache becoming unbearable, his face closed in a grimace, his skin becoming clammy. After five hours he started to whine out and would go quiet again, just panting. He isn’t sure how much longer he can take this, his back and neck ached much like his arms were at first, but now they were impossibly numb, someone could cut them off and he wouldn’t feel a thing, Will was exhausted. There was no way of staying upright, It had been hours now but his numb arms were the least of his problems, he was hovered over his ankles and there was no relieving the pressure in his thighs, Will felt like he would drop any second, he just can’t take it anymore.

Mason was in awe at Will’s stamina, but it started to dwindle after the fifth hour, the young agent started to cry out, the desperation plain in the noise. Mason thought it was as delicious as the bourbon, he took another sip as the agent began to pant and whimper louder, there was no way he could go any longer. Will's voice broke into a sobbing moan and Mason smiled. There it was, the begging apology, that’s all he needed to hear. If Will apologises and acknowledges his crime, then he will be rewarded with forgiveness and associate it with good behavior in the future.

“I'm sorry Mason! Please I can’t take it anymore!” Will cried out softly once he had finally caught his breath. The pain isn't sharp like a needle point or a knife, it burns every muscle in his body better than boiling water. Everything feels scolded and, move or not, Will is in more pain than he could have ever imagined was possible.

“Why are you being punished Will?”

“Because I didn’t wake up when I was supposed to, I broke a rule! I’m sorry, please it hurts.” Will managed to get the sentence out before he broke in to sobs against the wall, his stamina was going to give out any second and he would drop, which would just bring further punishment.

Mason crossed the room and pressed his knee hard between Will’s shoulder blades, using a hand to grasp at Will’s hair, pulling back his head roughly, he continued to press his knee down harder against the welts in a way that Mason knew was painful, only confirmed when Will whined and began to pant louder. “I keep giving you all these chances to be a good boy for me Will and what do I get? A disobedient mutt that throws it back in my face. Tut tut!”

“Mason please I will be better I promise… please…” As angry as Mason was, Will was due for his shift in the club soon and wanted to spend some time with his toy before allowing him to change, first thing was first though, he called Cordell to come and clean up the wounds as he sprawled across the bed.

Cordell has Will sit backwards on the chair, using the wood he braces himself for the pain he knows is coming, the burley butler isn’t careful when he douses the first sterile rag in salt water. Will has to supress the scream each time the man roughly wiped down each long gash, it stings without mercy as the salt is thoroughly washed in, but it is the only way to avoid infection. Will winces, fighting back the tears as the searing pain swirls without end, penetrating deep into the cells that should be protected by smooth skin but lie open and raw. After the initial surge of pain, it ebbs, until finally Cordell dresses the worst ones and leaves. 

“Come here Will.” Mason didn’t bother to look away from the TV, just simply raised his arm in a silent demand for Will to curl into his side, to which he obeyed, too exhausted to refuse. The second Will was close enough Mason wrapped an arm around him and pulled the agent closer, Mason was a true Jekyll and hyde, when he wasn’t committing cruel acts of torture he was soft and gentle with Will as though they were a loving couple. Maybe in the aristocrat’s demented mind they were? 

Mason had never told Will he loved him, and he never would, but Will knew he felt that way, it was obvious in how he found ways to become physically close, chipping away at any emotional layers of protection just as he had with Will’s clothing. Yet on the flip side, in his cruelty the agent was nothing more than entertainment to the man, someone to take for a joy ride, not caring if Will was left a burnt out wreck at the end. He knew when Mason was craving affection, but his softness was so out of character it was like a dangerous animal showing its soft underbelly.

Mason would simply spend hours petting Will’s skin, kissing each bruise he caused softly before moving back to the agent’s lips… every few minutes Mason would force the unwanted eye contact Will dreaded so much, but notices the man’s eyes were so different in moments like these, more soft than Will knew his eyes could be. The cruel persona is gone and instead it is replaced with the eyes of one who loves deeply. If it were anyone else, Will would drop his gaze.

After two hours of forced intimacy Cordell was called back to escort Will downstairs, it was still relatively early so the club was quiet which Will was glad about, it meant he could get a few drinks to steady his nerves before the dreaded dances, even after months of doing this he still became nervous and uncomfortable. Will watched as Randall finished his slot on stage, the corners of his lips fighting a smile as he danced with his usual attitude, the men here may see seduction in Randall’s movements but Will sees nothing but open mocking, he swears that guy's exuberance for trouble is a contagion. Mischief is in the eye of the beholder, it certainly is for Randall. Will usually knows what he's going to do before he does it, it's all in his eyes. The guy had a busy brain, all those ideas for rocking the boat and so few opportunities to get away with it, but he still did whatever he was going to do regardless of the punishment. Most of the time Randall’s a coiled spring of frustration which just makes him all the more interesting, as he leaves the stage Will turns to order their usual drinks from Franklyn.

Hannibal was already seated one stool away from Will as the perky bar manager placed two drinks in front of the young agent, Will offered up a quick hello and turned his attention back to his drink, not wanting to draw much attention to Hannibal in case the information made it’s way back to Mason. It was much earlier than usual for Hannibal to be present, but the plan had timing elements that centred around the club and its brutes. 

Randall wrapped a playful arm around Will’s throat from behind shaking him a few times before taking the stool beside him. “Hey speccy four eyes! What did you do?” Randall took note of the numerous lash marks spread across Will’s back and instantly felt bad for him having suffered that punishment at Mason’s hands all too often, Hannibal’s eyes remained fixed to the bottles weighted behind the bar but discreetly listened to the conversation, curious as to what brought on Will’s punishment. The welts were quite deep, and didn’t look to have been cleaned properly which will no doubt lead to infection.

“Mason didn’t get his morning glory tended to… I had an unintentional lay in instead.” Randall smirked before choking out into hysterical laughter, Will followed close behind with a smirk. 

“Tell him to smother it in chocolate, you know give you some incentive!” The two had a weird type of banter, not only were crude insults taken as heart-warming compliments but the unthinkable topics they talked would seem weird to outsiders that weren't inside their precious circle of non-common sense. 

“He only lasts a minute anyway.”

“Mason always lasted hours with me… tell me Will have you been braking rules and practising your seduction methods with some of the sleazes in here?”

"I don’t need to practice Randall I have god given talents… maybe you should have stepped up your game and then you wouldn’t have been replaced."

“Wow Will your sweet words just blow me away sometimes.” Their conversations are always so much more than words, there chatting was a sort of verbal war, it was banter they looked forward to. They were never sure if they really got wittier as the evening wore on or if it was just the effect of the liquor making everything seem so much funnier. Their banter was crude, and they insulted each other often, but that was the way it was with them… no insults meant you really weren't part of the joke. They had a weird type of friendship, not only were crude insults taken as heart-warming compliments but the unthinkable topics they talked about would seem weird to outsiders.

Randall was soon pulled away by one of his regulars leaving Will and Hannibal to an awkward silence until Hannibal ordered another drink for himself and one for Will, to which the young agent declined. “Thanks, but Mason wouldn’t like me accepting drinks from you.” Franklyn gave it to Will regardless when he was sure Mason wasn’t looking.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…. so, do you plan on doing this for the rest of your life?” 

Will shrugged, “I think we both know the answer to that, I have a debt apparently.” Will really didn’t know what would happen if after his apparent debt was settled, if it ever was, he didn’t want to do this at all especially not for the rest of his life.

“There are many ways to settle a debt.”

“If you have a wide variety of options yes, but I think it’s clear I don’t have that.” When Franklyn noticed Mason eyeing up the pair he made conversation with Will, a subtle move on Franklyn’s part that Will understood instantly. Hannibal fell silent, understanding the interruption, but listened to Will and Franklyn talk for the next hour, the agent made lewd comments, jokes and gestures. Will was actually pretty funny without even realising it.

It appeared that Franklyn’s attempt to save Will from punishment failed as more than one club member made a joke about Mason’s ‘toy’ flaunting himself at the Doctor, Mason did not take too kindly to the jokes uttered at his expense and moved to teach Will a lesson. The hand appeared from nowhere and tightened around Will’s throat, white knuckled, strong. Instantly cutting off all oxygen as he was dragged from the stool, Will lost his balance as Mason pulled him into a backroom and slammed him back against the wall and laid both hands around the agent's throat, squeezing to give him a choke. 

Will's eyes became wide and lips parted as his hands flew up to the obstruction around his throat, panicked as Mason’s coarse tongue licked his cheek once before long fingers curled in his hair, pulling hard. Every time Will closed his eyes Mason bashed his head backward onto the concrete demanding he open them. Will didn't want to, he closed them repeatedly, anything instead of watching Mason’s face light up with power and lust. 

“You seem to have taken a liking to the good Doctor Will, it’s as though you are trying to make a mockery of me!” There was stillness in Mason, if hatred was visible the air would have been scarlet. Then suddenly movement, so much force in every blow, Mason rained blows into Will as if he meant to smash him into the very earth. Already Will’s eye swelled over and blood laced saliva drooled from his slack jaw, he cowered on the floor a bloody mess, nose smashed and eyes almost shut with swelling and then the kicks started. Until finally, FINALLY, Mason stopped. Straightening out the smart jacket as he looked down at Will wrapping his arms around his guts so tightly it’s almost as though he’s he's holding them in place, and to be honest he's beat so badly he could be, it hurt to breath and Will wondered if some ribs were cracked.

Mason ignored the creeping sense of remorse, and simply sneered, he was finished anyway, he snorted and used the grip on Will’s hair to pull him to his feet, not even allowing the young agent his own reaction to his assault. Will felt like his innards were being replaced by some kind of black hole, the nausea crept from his abdomen to his head and he lost the color from his face. It was as if Will’s heart had suddenly stopped beating and all the blood had run down into his feet, he swayed for just a moment before he stumbled forward and crumpled to the ground, the world went black. Mason sighed with annoyance and called Cordell from the bar to carry the unconscious form upstairs.

When Mason left the room, he was sure to make a point of wiping away the blood sprayed across his knuckles with the pristine white handkerchief when Hannibal looked over, as if he were asserting some form of dominance. A few seconds later Cordell left the back room with an unconscious, battered Will thrown over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing before disappearing out the door.

Mason took his seat beside Hannibal and smiled, “So Doctor Lecter, have you come to a decision?”


	4. Gracious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal tracks down Mason's first man but when he brings the file it's obvious the degrading show in front of him is for his benefit, Mason's words assure Will that he has made a big mistake in Hannibal's character and it takes away any remaining hopes of potential freedom...
> 
> Randall loses his temper when some of the more cruller guy's at Mason's mansion take their insults too far but what repercussions has he just entailed for him and Will? Can Hannibal use Randall's instability to his advantage?
> 
> A big thank you to anyone and everyone that is still following this story! Especially to those who have left a comment and a kudo it is really appreciated... I hope you enjoy the latest chapter and as always please let me know your thoughts!

“I will get you your men Mason, just be sure to hold up your end of the deal.” Mason sat close, but the conversation was anything but private, only raised voices could be heard in this place. The laughter that overpowers the jukebox seems to be in direct competition with the conversations that swirl in a dirty cloud of smoke, the stagnant stench of high end colognes were an endless collaboration of mephitic odours that could turn even the strongest of stomachs.

“Good! I can spare a few moments but unfortunately my toy has been participating in some less than appropriate behaviors lately and needs to be taught his rightful place, talking without permission… flirting… attitude! Please feel free to stay for another drink though, on me of course! That offer also still extends to the many other treasures within these walls, I know I have offered before, but you do appear to be extremely tense Doctor Lecter.” Within two seconds of Mason’s clicked fingers Franklyn refreshed his tumbler as Hannibal held his near empty wine glass in his fingers, the tips forming a steady wall without mortar, it was his chosen luxury, a simple yet elaborate distraction that was so desperately needed in this place. Mason held out a questioning hand gesture with a raised eyebrow, genuinely curious if the man would even contemplate having a drink with him.

“I appreciate the offer Mason but I must decline both, I have things to do.” 

“Yes I’m sure you do, as do I, maybe another time? I know your work is very important whereas my task could be considered a pointless endeavour, I may have to discard of that one altogether as he’s just not working out the way I had hoped. Whereas your work will bring this entire situation to an end!” Mason slapped the bar and grinned widely, watching as Hannibal’s face remained fixed in an indifferent manor. “I’m only teasing Doctor Lecter! Only teasing…”

“Maybe you ought to cut him a break Mason?” Hannibal watched as the overzealous smile turned into demented grin at his recommendation. In his arrogant triumph Mason smirked, just a small pouting of the lips, a narrowing of the eyes above his lenses, and a tilting of the head. It was a subtle movement, but powerful. 

“Now, now Doctor Lecter you wouldn’t be meddling in my affairs again would you?” Maybe Hannibal could have walked away if it had not been for that smirk? That arrogant little rise in the corner of his mouth, it was that fained, cool detachment in Mason’s eyes that sealed his fate. Not only had he taken away a life’s work, it was giving him inner delight, he was savouring these moments, but striking out in a heated moment of anger was not in Hannibal’s nature.

“Of course not, it was nothing more than a professional recommendation, I could make many of them Mason, but I don’t, because they are not my concern. Those recommendations also extend to the human beings that you consider property.” 

“Ahhh! So you have recommendations about myself, are we certain they are not character assassinations Doctor?”

“I only analyse behaviors I see Mason, I do not make personal remarks on a person’s innate character, that is ungracious and unprofessional. But just so we are clear Mason, I am polite to every person I meet and that includes the people on these premises, both captors and captees, and I will buy anyone a drink, no matter how barbaric I find the situation to be.” Hannibal avoided singling Will out in the statement to refrain any backlash for him, but he knows it wouldn’t matter if he had said it outright, Mason was jealous of a non-existent connection and there are no words to prevent misguided envy.

“I am nothing more than a visionary with a dream Doctor Lecter, and that dream is clearly shared by many people… all I want is for my property to know their place and I really don’t think that is much to ask for after everything I do for them... I don't care about your personal feelings towards me either just as long as you obey the rules of our game, and ignore the rules of ones in which you are not an opponent. I acknowledge that I have odd methods, but they clearly work in every aspect of my life, so it is in fact your judgement on our happy home here that is the unfounded.” There is nothing quite as unnerving to Hannibal than a person with emotions that don't quite match the situation, they consistently look happy when others are in pain just like Mason does right now when he talks about his property. 

It’s a form of psychopathy, they are unable to truly look sad when others have a trauma to relate and often exacerbate the pain wherever they can to achieve that inner surge of pleasure they feel when others hurt. But when that illness is had by someone in Mason’s position of power and money the angels weep, because they are nothing more than a deviant to society, a child pulling the wings from a fly. 

“Again Mason, that is not my business.” Mason’s creepy smile was lost and reverted back to an overcompensating grin at Hannibal’s reassurance there was no interest in his personal affairs, regardless of Hannibal’s faux words, Mason knew he did indeed have a certain interest in his business, especially when it came to Will and that just wouldn’t do. Mason wasn't about to pretend to be anything other than what he was, he enjoyed it too much. To him money and power was a game, a game that he was extremely good at playing, he placed his moves like a game of chess and sat back waiting for his opponent to make the move he knew they would, just like Hannibal had.

As always Hannibal left a generous tip on the bar for Franklyn and pulled one last look to Mason before he put on his jacket to leave, Franklyn placed his hand on the hundred dollar bill but Mason rapidly grasped his hand before he could pull back. “You are my eyes and ears in this place Franklyn! Always present when our temporary club member visits so tell me, is there anything going on that I should know about?”

“Going on with what?” Franklyn’s brain shut down from obvious fear, he was clammy with the instant glisten of a cold sweat, eyes were wide as if Mason was coming to deliver the fatal blow. Franklyn saw what no-one else did, he heard a million things a day from both captives and captees that he wasn’t supposed to hear, it was why Mason kept him around. Trapped in his own psychosis, a living nightmare for one, tailor made by a deranged man who played on his deepest fears… harm to his family. Although Franklyn knew much about everything he only drip fed Mason the bare minimum, the absolute smallest pieces of interest to keep Mason pliant, just enough for the aristocrat to believe he knew every piece of gossip in this place down to the last detail.

He didn’t though, Mason’s knowledge only scratched the surface, the thought that his narking was responsible for certain punishments and discipline of innocent the boys and men here killed Franklyn inside, he just wanted to protect his family. How he longed to go back and take a different path, avoid the very situation that got him here in the first place, but now that was impossible, there was no way back, there was no way to make it right. The remorse would eat at Franklyn every day for the rest of his life. 

What he had done could not be undone no, but he could make amends in subtle ways, buying the captives food and drink, bringing small gifts of comfort for their shoe box sized rooms, but confession was out of the question, even to his priest. Only in Franklyn’s silent prayers could he speak his heart to God and beg for his mercy even though he didn't feel like it was deserved, but he prayed that one day he would feel absolved of his sin. Maybe it was worse because not one single person suspected him, the captors don’t hush or silence their chatter when he collects drinks from their tables because he’s too low down on the social scale to even notice. Whereas the captees even go so far as confiding in him, thinking he is a friendly listening ear and with those secrets he was, those he will not reveal to anyone, taking them to the grave before offering them up to Mason.

“No Mr Verger.” Still Mason maintained his grip on Franklyn’s hand, squeezing in a way he knew would be painful, with his free hand he pulled out a photograph from the inner pocket of his exquisitely tailored suit, holding it up for Franklyn to see.

“Are we sure about that Franklyn?” The photograph presented displayed the image of Franklyn taking his niece to the park last Saturday, his stomach seized slightly knowing Mason’s character and the levels of depravity the man will reach without a second’s hesitation. "How delicate and vulnerable children are, don't you think?? It would be a shame if anything were to happen to innocence itself wouldn’t it Franklyn?" In a mocking gesture of disgust, Mason wrinkled his nose and he drew his head forwards as he glared at the bar manager over his glasses. 

What little color Franklyn had drained further from his face at Mason’s words, that was it, game over, he will tell Mason what he wanted to know to protect his family, it was the reason he was here in the first place. “They don’t really talk much, but when they do it’s just Hannibal asking how Will is and if he planned on doing this for the rest of his life…” When Franklyn hesitated Mason’s grip slipped further up his hand to slowly push a finger back to near breaking point.

“AND!??”

“Will told Hannibal that he has an apparent debt with you… and Hannibal bought him a drink but Will refused i-it! Aaahhh!! I was the one that gave it to him anyway… that’s all I know Mason I swear!” When Mason was sure he had gathered all the information Franklyn had, he finally released his finger and smiled.

“Good! Now you are not going to be holding back any more information from me are you Franklyn?”

“No sir.”

“Good boy.” Mason released his grip and threw down another hundred bucks, not through generosity but for the achieval of gratitude.

“Thank you Mason.” Winking at Franklyn Mason made a mocking laugh and left.

By the time Mason arrived upstairs Will had been checked over and patched up by Cordell, but remained unconscious slumped over the dog bed. “I would recommend an evening of rest for him Mason, his body needs a little time to recover, he regained consciousness for a short while and I explained to him what I will to you, it’s just exceptionally bad bruising but he will be just fine.”

“Thank you Cordell.”

“No problem Mason, do you require anything else before I take my leave?”

“No Cordell, that will be all.” When the bedroom door closed the dark feelings set in. Will wasn’t just damaged, he was completely broken. Guilt. Mason hated this feeling, it wasn’t something he could deal with, it was the same with every toy he gets, there’s a belief that this one will be different but it had nothing to do with their character, they were all the same after a few weeks of discipline. The problem was falling for them, Mason beat all the toys he had owned and discarded, but there were the occasional ones that he yearned for, wanting nothing more than their voluntary affection that didn’t come without demand. So they got it the worse, simply because Mason didn’t know how to deal with those feelings or gain actual, voluntary love.

It takes a few bourbons to sleep that night.

Will wakes suddenly, every thought in high definition and though his eyes are open he can't think of why, his heart is pounding, mind empty, until it’s as though a hypodermic needle of adrenaline has been emptied into his carotid and he strains into the darkness, breathing rate beginning to steady when he quickly realises he hasn’t overslept and Mason is still snoring lightly in the bed above him.

Waking the morning after Mason’s attack was by far the worst morning so far, the bruise that had begun as a purple stain above his eyebrow had now sunk deep into the socket itself appearing as a black eye, but that was the least painful injury. Nearly every inch of Will’s torso has ruptured into growing purple blooms, every movement hurts from what he guesses are torn insides, but still he refuses to give up, there is still a fight within him, a determination to survive what may come. 

This time Will stretches forwards, but a pain that cannot be mended is the torment, the torture, it’s un unending burden that strives to take away any remaining hope. Attempting to imagine a future is becoming difficult now, there is nothing there anymore, no images of hope or internal voices telling him everything would be ok. Will is battered on the inside worse than any broken bone. When the soul shatters can there be a cure? Or should he stop fighting and just give up?

Will waits for the familiar nudge that doesn’t come, instead when the alarm rings out at seven am Mason climbed from the bed and moved to the bathroom, obviously not in the mood for his morning glory. Will had hoped that was the reason anyway and not the fact that he was in more trouble. 

Sitting up in the dog bed is excruciating, although Cordell made it clear he had suffered no broken bones it didn’t feel that way, even breathing was a challenge. Mason whistled happily as he showered, clearly harbouring no regrets for the vicious attack, that fact only became more apparent when he smiled down at Will as he dressed. 

“Good morning my pet!” Will had seen people consumed by regret, like maggots in their guts, they analyze every action and word from every angle and writhe in the agony of regret for paths taken, but Mason didn’t.

“Don’t look so sad Will, I’m sure you will enjoy todays plans!” 

“I’m sure.”

“Good pets don't talk Will! And they certainly don't talk back with attitude, do they?” Mason stared the young agent down with an angered look, the fact he continued to speak with an attitude didn’t sit well with him. When the Mason’s eyes turned to the characteristically cold cerulean orbs, a shiver ran down Will's spine, it was a look he had received from Mason often but it was still just as terrifying as the first time so he simply looked at the ground and nodded silently. 

Without another word Will crawled to Mason’s feet and internally cringed when the leash was hooked onto the collar and tugged harshly a few times in a mocking fashion, jerking Will backward slightly each time. “Much better! Can't have my little pet off his leash can we?” 

When Will looked over at the shorts strewn beside the dog bed Mason’s grin only grew wider, “No Will, no clothes today! You can thank your little outburst of attitude for that! I don't care what opinions you have so I certainly don’t need to hear them with attitude, I don't like my toys to talk unless they are complementing me or promising something naughty... remember that my pet.” Will’s face burned at Mason’s words, angry on a level he wasn’t sure he could feel, but bowed his head submissively as he is pulled from the bedroom and made to crawl behind Mason completely nude. Will is often on the end of the leash following Mason around the house as he does whatever he’s doing, but having to do it fully naked in front of the mansions servants was a new level of humiliation.

Humiliation is used as a trifecta in these types of relationships, it supposedly aids in training, discipline, and satisfaction of the humiliator. It can be done verbally, physically, or both, and many different techniques can be used. Some owners liked to use complete silence, not even acknowledging their pets when they have been bad, it tells them they are not even worth the words. Whereas some prefer to speak to them in a degrading way, anything to invoke the most painful sense of worthlessness possible. A classic technique often used to put toys into an obedient head space is to treat them less than human, less than a dog to project the power they have over them. Humiliation in general will stimulate the same brain regions that are associated with physical pain, the inference being that the slave will remember both the rewards and punishments and adjust their behavior accordingly. 

For Mason, there is something about unleashing that level of control that soothes him right to his soul.

Mason stopped at the top of the stairs and pulled something from his pocket before crouching down in front of Will when nothing but sadness appeared to ooze from him, maybe there was even a twinge of guilt from Mason at his actions. “I think we have to teach you to control that mouth of yours Will because I’m getting a little tired of the attitude lately, from now on you will not speak unless spoken to, your behavior has lost you that right. If appropriate you will be given permission to do so ok? This is your last chance to be good for me Will, I really don’t like punishing you… I prefer when you are good so I can offer you treats like laying with me in bed. Do you understand?” When Will nodded Mason lightly grasped his cheeks and pressed their foreheads whilst speaking softly. “See if you can't control yourself then I have to, but then why should I waste my time? If you don't learn soon, I might have to be a little harsher with you, or discard you altogether and I don’t want to do that Will. That skitter scatter of your mind is looking for solutions, a way to escape, or a way to live in peace and thrive because it knows you can’t do both, it is the reason for your lack of focus. So, you need to let those feelings go… your mind is powerful Will and it will devote itself to finding a way forward that works for both you and I.” Mason kissed Will’s forehead softly and slipped the ball gag into his mouth, pushing slightly to slip it behind his teeth with a pop and fastened the straps unnecessarily tight. “Maybe when you learn to control yourself and your mouth, we can think about taking this out ok?” When Will nodded obediently Mason smiled and ruffled his hair as a soundless praise.

Will is tugged with the leash as Mason paced around the house, if he slowed or didn’t move quick enough, Mason would pull sharply in a silent demand for Will to speed up. It was difficult to move on the marble floor though, his hands and knees ached after only a few minutes. Mason knew this but didn’t care. “Stop tugging back at the leash!” Will eventually got into a rhythm of crawling through the pain bit it’s as though his limbs don’t really belong to him and each push forward is a negotiation rather than an order, everything hurts. Every damn thing. Will winces as he crosses the floor, limbs bend against the will of his joints as if there is a stake being hammered into his lower back, the strikes radiating pain in a way that shatters his brain, or at least that's what it feels like. Will’s breathing is shallow and uneven but all anyone sees is his form crawling on the ground, the servants and ushers walk around him, chat and greet Mason while blissfully unaware of the pain Will endures. But what else can they do?

“I’ve got such a quiet, well behaved little pet today haven't I hmm?” Will didn’t look up from the ground, just nodded obediently and continued to follow the man around in silence. 

Will knew Mason was just pacing for the hell of it, it was hours before the man finally acknowledged him again, but he wished he hadn’t. “Well our visitor should be here shortly, so I suppose we should go and greet him!” After hours of kneeling and crawling Will wasn’t sure what ached most, his jaw, his knees or his bladder that so desperately needed emptying, he isn’t sure how much longer he can hold it but doesn’t want to be bad and start trying to talk behind the gag because he doesn’t know if he is allowed to use the bathroom, so tries to hold it as long as he can.

Will was relieved when Mason sat back down, it allowed him to close his legs in an attempt to hold his bladder but the relief was short lived, Mason noticed Will shifting uncomfortably and knew why, but waited for him to ‘ask’ permission, he didn’t have to wait long when Will started nuzzling his face into his calf while whining and shifting. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

Will nods.

“Speak Will.” Mason smiled down at the young agent’s hung head when a slew of whines followed from behind the gag at his command.

“Ok, well we better take you outside so you can take care of your business before our guest arrives.” Mason stands and pulls the leash, leading Will outside into the back garden, the fact the man is making him pee outside adds the ultimate insult, could it possibly get any more humiliating? Mason unhooks the leash and shoos Will forward slightly with his foot as though he were an actual animal.

“On the grass Will not the stone.” Will crawls further on to the grass and turned beet red when he notices some of the gardener’s glance over, worse still, some of the captive’s windows looked out into the garden. Will was mortified, frozen to the spot, he felt traumatized and there was nothing he could do about it, not a damn thing. The young agent couldn't believe what he was being forced to do and in front of everybody too, he was sure he could hear laughter, real or imaginary he crouched over soaking in the noise as he finally emptied his bladder, head beginning to spin. There was no way he would live this down, it was just more ammo for some of the crueller guys here. Will attends to his bathroom needs quickly and when he’s done, he crawls back over to Mason and waits for the leash to be hooked once more as he’s pulled back into the house. 

“See, you have been such a good boy today haven’t you? It just goes to show that you can be good when you want to be.” Mason sat in the largest leather chair in the empty club opposite an empty one, clearly waiting for his guest and moved to thread his fingers through the soft brown hair, pausing to scratch behind Will’s ear, letting him know how pleased he is so far. It still surprised Will how soft Mason’s touch could actually be, as he only usually receives aggression.

Will wasn’t left wondering about the guest long when Cordell entered with Hannibal walking close behind, Will wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole, but there was no rescue from this humiliation. It was absolute torture. Utter humiliation and the memory of this moment would be seared into his brain forever, ready to pop up and torment him again whenever he had a quiet moment.

“Good morning Doctor Lecter, please take a seat.” Hannibal sat opposite when Mason gestured for him to sit but kept his gaze firmly on the sick aristocrat rather than the battered, broken form crouched beside him. “I must say I was surprised to get your phone call so soon, your first one already? And in under twenty four hours! Bravo!”

“He wasn’t difficult to find, but he is bulletproof.” Hannibal dropped the file down in front of Mason, it really hadn’t taken much to find the first man with even the most minimal of information the aristocrat had given.

“For the right money Doctor nobody is bulletproof.” Mason peered over his glasses as he picked up the file and skimmed the pages, he stroked at Will’s hair in a possessive gesture without even realising he was doing it, he had expected it to be weeks before Hannibal found the first one, the speed in which the first file was brought only strengthened his belief that he had done the right thing in taking Hannibal’s interest. 

“I suppose that is true.” The need for revenge was like a rat gnawing at Hannibal’s soul, it was relentless and unceasing, like an abscess on the soul and the only effective antibiotic is cold hard revenge, a plan so savage. But still the man sat there with a grace that shone no light on his internal hatred, one black dress shoe moved to rest over the other, the long black sport coat falling comfortably over the perfectly fitted gray suit, Hannibal was nothing less than refined in any situation.

“You must be eager to retain ownership of the man I took from you…” Mason uttered the statement with malice, he didn’t truly understand Will’s fixation on the Doctor but he had an idea, the young agent probably guessed the man wasn’t like the rest in the club, maybe he even saw Hannibal as a night in shining armour or way out? Mason wasn’t too sure, unaware how right he actually was, but in implying the Doctor was just the same as the others here, he knows that would have stung to hear.

“I am.” Upon hearing the conversation Will’s eyes went wide before shifting back to the floor glazed with a glassy layer of tears, he had been wrong, Hannibal was not a potential way out. The man seemingly owned someone that Mason had taken, he was probably the one who had informed Mason of their conversations… he was right in his previous thought, Hannibal was not a friend, he was a foe. Will bit down on the gag tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from his mouth as his heart sank at the magnitude of loss that swept over him, that was his only potential way out and now it’s gone. 

“I bet your getting hungry Will?” Will really wasn’t hungry, it was coming up on three pm and although Mason hadn’t allowed him breakfast or lunch yet, he didn’t care. The knot in his stomach had pushed away any feelings of hunger but now he realises why feeding time had been left until now, anything to add that extra morsal of humiliation. Will wanted to shake his head in refusal, anything to avoid what was about to transpire but Mason’s earlier warning of this being his last chance to behave accordingly rang in his ears, so defeated, he nodded his head.

“Cordell would you be so kind as to bring Will his supper please.”

“Of course sir.” Will’s entire body turned crimson when the burley butler returned with the two porcelain bowls and set them out in front of him, Cordell filled one of the bowls with the water and the second with a mushed up substance that both looked and smelt like actual dog food. 

Will hadn’t quite mastered eating out of bowls yet so knew it would be messy. “Do we have any leads on the others as yet Doctor Lecter?”

“Not as yet no.”

“I suppose I cannot complain after the speed in which the first was brought to me.” Mason leaned over the chair and fiddled with the straps of the gag to finally pull it free from Wills mouth, his jaw closed with an audible click but still he tried to ignore the dull ache and craving for the water to soothe his dry mouth, not wanting to be humiliated in this way.

“Ok go on.” Finally Will moved into position and put his hands on each side of the bowl as he bent and started to lap at the water, it was quite difficult to drink in this position but he persisted, anything but disobeying Mason’s orders.

“I apologise about that Doctor Lecter my pet hasn’t had the luxury of food or water today as even after all this time he still hasn’t learnt to keep quiet when he should… please, continue.” Hannibal maintained eye contact with Mason, unwilling to watch the shameful show he is aware was put on for his own benefit.

“The man you wish to find has taken up residence in Sardinia, an extremely poor part of the region but his millions make him a king there so I wouldn’t misjudge his security if you decide to pay him a visit.”

“Yes, I rarely misjudge things Doctor Lecter as you well know, I would like to make this man suffer greatly and I don’t think it would be all too easy to bring him back from Sardinia so I will probably go for the tried and trusted methods of getting him to come to me… any leads on his family?” Hannibal dropped another file on the small table in front of Mason, taking a brief moment to flit his eyes over Will’s welted back and bruised torso as he did. The slashes were becoming worse, he saw a slight infection the last time he was here but now they are worse, the contusions are probably shielding some broken ribs or at the very least fractures… he took in many ailments in the time it took Mason to glance over the file.

“He only has two living relatives, one is his mother who resides in Sardinia with him, and the second is a nephew, twenty two and he lives in Ontario.”

“Excellent… it would appear I made a good choice collecting leverage over you… one out of six, five more and I think it will be time to go our separate ways wouldn’t you Doctor?” Will tried focusing on anything but the humiliating situation around him, trying hard to focus on his growling belly instead to give him that last push of strength to start eating the food. 

Mason sat back in the chair, glancing over the file with one hand, using the other to pet Will’s hair as he hovered over the bowl. “Go ahead and eat your supper Will, we can’t have you working on an empty stomach can we?” Will bent his head closer and sniffed at the bowl, it smelt horrible, but refusal wasn’t an option so he tentatively picked up the mush with his teeth and chewed it slowly. The flavor was bland, but the thickness was rich and Will found he couldn’t eat a lot of it.

The name tag hanging from the collar jangled from time to time as he ate, adding that extra dose of embarrassment, but Mason didn’t seem to care when his hand travelled from his hair down to Will’s stomach, occasionally scratching lightly as a soundless praise. When the bowl was nearly empty Will began to struggle a little before he looked up to the man and whined, panicking for the fact that he couldn’t quite finish his meal.

“I already have some ideas on where to find the next person, but I am reluctant to hand anything else over without an assurance that what I came for is still alive.”

“I understand the apprehension Doctor Lecter, really I do… Have you finished Will?” Will nodded and looked down in shame. “What kind of assurance were you seeking?”

“A timed stamped video will do just fine, capturing his current surrounds also.”

“Don’t worry Will you ate a lot, you have done worse!” Mason mused, taking a minute to stroke the young agent’s hair in reassurance before ordering Cordell to retrieve the food bowl. Mason chuckled smiling down at Wills messy face when Cordell returned with a wash cloth and wiped away the dried food only adding to his sorrow. “I can provide you with that video, that is no problem, and just for your own peace of mind he is receiving the same treatment, in a very similar circumstance to the one you had him in... nothing less than filth.” The thought made Will feel sick, he was shocked he could be so wrong about a person.

“When I receive that, you will receive the next file.” 

“That sounds fair to me Doctor! Are you finished with your water Will?” Will looked up at Mason for a split second in a silent question as to whether or not Cordell wanted a vocal response, but played it safe and nodded instead. “Say thank you to Cordell Will, I shouldn’t have to ask you to do that.”

“Thank you Cordell.”

“You are very welcome Will.”

“I will gather the rest of the information you require Mason and we can discuss the final exchange when I have all five, but I am highly suggesting you hold up your end of the deal.”

“I am a man of my word Doctor Lecter, be here this evening around eight pm and I will have the video.” Mason remained seated when Hannibal stood to put on his jacket and pulled out a small vile of something to place on the table.

“Then we will speak very soon, his welts are infected, I would suggest using that anti-septic wash if you wish to keep him alive, dilute it and use a sterile cloth to apply it.” 

“Hmmmm… how very thoughtful of you Doctor.” Mason picked up the small bottle and twirled it in his fingers as he examined it, “What do you say to the good Doctor Will?” Will didn’t lift his gaze from the ground.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

“Cordell please show Doctor Lecter out.”

“Of course sir.” When Cordell moved to walk Hannibal out of the building Mason smiled down at Will, the fact that Hannibal had brought his pet a gift didn’t sit well with him, obviously Will had been a little over friendly with him.

“Open your mouth Will.” Will whimpered when Mason held out the ball gag once more, his jaw ached but opened his mouth regardless not in the position to refuse. “It would appear you have made quite an impression on the Doctor, especially for him to bring you a gift… you really are an animal aren’t you Will? Hunting for many sexual partners…” Jealousy oozed from Mason and Will knew this, he hadn’t intended his getting close to Hannibal in any other way than one to escape, but as the man apparently the man was as bad as Mason, so it didn’t look like anything was going to come of it anyway.

“Cordell will you please take my pet upstairs please.” Cordell moved to grasp the leash with a smile when he returned.

“Of course sir.” Mason made the necessary phone calls to get the video made for the evening before shutting himself in the bedroom with Will, there was a level of anger at the gift, but also an air of guilt at the state of his body. But Mason knew unleashing another attack could render his toy unusable for weeks, it could even kill him, so for now he will forget about the gift and re-visit the issue when he has an appropriate punishment for him… but more than anything Mason just wanted to play with his toy, maybe an unusual gesture of kindness would help to settle his new pet’s nerves and calm his mischief?

Mason approached Will crouched beside the bed as he braced himself for the anticipated attack at the gift, but instead Mason helped him to stand and walked Will to the wall, turning him to face it. With a softness Will was unsure existed in Mason, he took the agent’s arms and pressed his forearms against the wall, gently pushing Will’s head to rest against them. There was an expectation of pain, maybe another lashing or beating as Mason stood close behind him, but instead the man simply took a moment to run his fingers down the smooth expanse of Will’s bruised back before speaking close to his ear.

“You want to cum don’t you Will?” Mason growled, teeth clamping down on Will’s ear lobe. They were light at first, but then he bit down harder as Will squirmed against the wall. The teeth turned to a tongue, sliding over the rim of Will's ear as Mason’s hands slid down his sides and landed on his hips, the lips moved down to his neck and nipped at the tender skin. Will’s skin bruised so easily, he knew it would make a mark, it seemed like his captor knew this too when Mason began to suck at the skin furiously, until Will let out a noise of panic.

“Yes.” Will whined, too scared to say anything else.

"Beg." Mason demanded.

Will didn’t hesitate, in this position he was vulnerable, it was do as he’s asked or suffer the consequences. "Please." He managed, voice shaking. "Please let me cum… I’ve been a good boy." His only lines were to beg for the unwanted touch, plea for his own assault.

“Yes you have Will. You have been a very good boy for me today, it’s our new start… I may even forget about the gift... and the free drink from our visitor.” Will whined louder at Mason’s creeping hands, his coarse stubble on his neck as he whispered words that would not ever be expunged from his mind. “So beautiful… such a perfect toy for me.” Without warning Mason’s hand slipped between Will’s legs, fingers wrapping firmly around the base of his cock as he started to stroke lightly, soft at first before the pace quickened. Will’s eyes shut tight as he steadied himself against the wall, trying hard not to vomit at the unwanted touch when Mason moved his hand faster and deepened the pressure.

The pleasure was unwanted, but it didn’t stop it steadily rising in the pit of his stomach. When Will arched his back his breaths became panting, Mason released his grasp on Will’s hip to wrap an arm securely around the young agent’s chest, holding him up as he started to stroke faster. Will found himself involuntarily gasping and moaning, pleasure pooling in his stomach, he shuddered as he drew near.

“Say my name Will…” Mason gripped him tightly, grinding in time with his strokes to Will’s length, the entire scene in front of him filling him with lust.

“HHmmmm… Mason….” The groans leaving Will were nothing less than disgust, the rising surge of unwanted pleasure felt nothing less than dirty, but the forced use of Mason’s name was sickening… but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Cum for me Will.” A sound caught between a wail and a cry arose from Will’s stomach and erupted from his lips when he came hard, semen hitting the wall in front of him as wave after wave of unwanted pleasure surged throughout his body. Mason held him a little longer until the agent could stand of his own volition before stepping back entirely. 

“Good boy, what do we say?”

“Thank you Mason.” The ultimate insult, been made to thank your rapist for an unwanted sexual assault.

“Now, go clean up ok? You have work soon.”

“Yes Mason.” Will picked up his clothes and looked over at the man before walking into the bathroom. 

“C-can I close the door?”

“Yes you can, good boy for asking.” Will turned on the water of the shower waiting until the pipes spat out the warm water before easing his way in, he reached for the soap and started scrubbing up, he could think of nothing but what just happened. He closed his eyes and placed his hands against the shower wall, letting hot water pour over his back praying for it to wash away the feel of Mason’s creeping fingers.

When he was finished, he turned off the shower and walked over to the towels drying himself off and dressing in his work shorts before leaving the bathroom, in anticipation of Cordell’s escort downstairs.

Will had only been at the bar for fifteen minutes before Hannibal’s arrival, the only indication was the slight drop in Will’s sense of calm and the descent of absolute silence amongst him and Franklyn. Without turning Will knew he was there, Franklyn moved to greet him, friendly and warm, “Usual?" Will wanted to spin on the spot before he could vanish and reprimand him for his betrayal, although no promises were made, no indications that he would set Will free, he had felt so close to freedom but now realises it may have been all in his mind. What wasn’t in his mind was the betrayal, someone had told Mason about their conversations and the free drink and he knows that person is Hannibal, it couldn’t be anyone else.

"Mason should be down shortly.” Franklyn could barely look Hannibal in the eye, but with Will it was worse, knowing the information Mason had forced from him would eventually hold serious consequences for Will, consequences he had caused, and seeing them will be hell.

“Thank you.” Franklyn moved to serve others and collect glasses in a way to avoid being close enough to catch any conversation between the two at the bar, if he didn’t hear anything he couldn’t report it.

“Hello Will, how are you.” Will didn’t pull his gaze from the glass he fiddled with out in front of him, just simply nodded. 

“I sense some anger towards me, have I done something to offend you?” Hannibal knew it was with regards to Mason implying he owned some kind of toy, and didn’t really blame Will’s judgement on that fact, but he owed the agent nothing, least of all information on the accuracies on the situation. 

“I just think it’s best we don’t speak anymore, not that we have anything to talk about anyway, I would just prefer to avoid all people that view, and are happy to own human beings… plus, I wouldn’t want to suffer any more beatings for leaked information. What’s that saying? Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me? You must be pretty low to come here and engage us in conversation just to sell it to Mason, I question if I am the only one you have done that to.” Will's talk gave away his thought patterns, all of his agonising sorrow is front and foremost, but makes it clear he doesn't care to talk of what ails him as he clearly blames Hannibal for his most recent of beatings. Instead, he only seeks the quickest escape from the conversation, glad of the distraction when he hears Randall approach. 

“Hey speccy! Damn did you sleep in again?” Randall took in Will’s battered body, he hadn’t witnessed or heard about Mason’s violent assault the previous night as he had just finished up his twelve hour sentence on the rack for biting an usher. “Two vodkas please Franklyn! And your usual smile!?” Franklyn simply huffed out an awkward laugh and turned to get their drinks as Randall raised and lowered his eyebrows in a quizzical look when the usually bubbly bar manager looked as miserable as Will’s body. “Damn what’s up his ass!? Anyway…. What did you do?” 

“Somebody has been reporting certain conversations and a free drink to Mason, he didn’t take too kindly to it.”

“Who!? Give me their names! My gnashers are itching for some action!” There was a very fine line between instability and attempts at humour with Randall, and currently Will wasn’t sure which he was trying to achieve, probably the latter after his twelve hours on the rack. Will had noticed he was always pent up with rage afterwards but who could blame him? Hannibal quickly realised where the sudden tension from Will had come from, not only did the young agent believe he also owned a toy, but Will also assumed it had been him that had been reporting things to Mason. A quick glance at Franklyn’s guilt ridden face as he set the two glasses down told Hannibal exactly where the reports had come from.

“It’s nobody Randall, just scum, it doesn’t matter…” Randall wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders and pulled him close, patting his arm a few times. Despite the heaviness in Will’s stomach, it relaxed slightly at the feeling of Randall’s body pressed against his own in a friendly hug. Momentarily Will sank into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture that he wouldn’t accept from any other person here, Randall was his best friend and he just made the future within these walls seem a little less bleak.

“Hmmmmmmmmmm…. Wanna cheesy puff?” Randall reached beneath the bar and offered up the small snack to Will who pulled him a grossed out quizzical look.

“Did you just pull that out of your shorts!?”

“Yeah but they are still in their packet! It’s original cheese not Randall cheese or anything, where else am I supposed to keep them? I don’t have pockets.” Even in his depths of sorrow Will couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

“Randall you are one of a kind.” Randall wittered on about nonsense as he usually does when he’s a little manic which Will didn’t mind, he really didn’t feel much like talking anyway so was happy to sit and listen until Matthew AND Francis propped themselves up against the bar beside them.

“Trainings going well then Will?” Matthew snickered at his own comment followed closely by Francis. 

“Matthew if you ran like you run your mouth you would be in better shape! And then maybe some of the guys in here would want to go near you instead of you been the twelfth hour last resort! You are boring, so just save yourself and shut up right now.” Randall snapped back as he took a drink, Will tensed slightly knowing exactly what was about to happen.

“If I throw a stick will you leave Randall? Nobody wants you here you absolute nutcase!”

“Nobody wants me here? Bitch please your birth certificate is an apology from the condom company! NOBODY wants you anywhere.” Hannibal couldn’t prevent the choke of laughter into his wine glass at Randall’s insult, drawing the attention of all four men for a brief moment.

“You know Francis I heard the prized jewel Will over here got his beating for throwing himself at a certain visitor… I can certainly see why though.” Matthew looked over at Hannibal and winked while Will wanted to cry as rage filled embarrassment flooded his system at the accurate revelation that was laid bare for all to hear.

“Now, now guys let’s keep it friendly ok?” Franklyn could see where the pointless insults were headed as he watched Randall rapidly become irate, and wanted to prevent any unnecessary punishments being dished out.

“That’s ok Franklyn I prefer a battle of wits anyway, and Matthew appears to be unarmed in that department.”

“Tell me Randall, do you just enjoy having those pigs ravage you, or is there a particular one your sweet for? Is that the reason you lash out… more time in your favorite position?”

“AW HELL NO!!” Randall ripped the packet of cheese puffs from his shorts and threw them towards the bar as he saw red. Everything went red at the insult and he snapped, his brain went into overdrive as it picked out every moment that he'd spent on the rack. The memories always weighed down on him but instead of allowing them to break him even more, Randall would keep them buried deep down inside of him and tap into them when he was about to unleash his rage. The flames in his stomach rose up to his chest and crawled through his veins as he allowed it to take over the rest of his body. Randall’s always felt the animalistic rage build inside of him like some kind of werewolf transformation when his fingers coiled into fists and the blood rose to his cheeks. The term anger barely even touched upon the tip of the volcano that Randall so clearly was in that moment.

Within seconds he pounced on Matthew, a sudden gush of pain jolted throughout his face when Randall’s head connected with it, snapping his nose into a bloody mess. There were no hole’s barred when Randall went in for the attack, he pulled out hair in handfuls, scratched, bit, kicked and head-butted. There was an essence of a wild animal when he fought, a rageful scream would follow that paralyzed his victim's thinking, shutting them down into a fetal position to ride out their attack.

Will didn't know who threw the first punch when Francis tried to jump on Randall to pull him back, but suddenly the agent’s fist was slamming into his face when he wouldn’t accept the two on one scenario and moved to defend his friend without hesitation, the two stumbled apart for a brief second before diving back at each other, eyes narrowed in determination. Will dodged each fist and came up with his own until the pair collapsed in a scuffle on the ground for a brief instant, before climbing back to their feet, Randall was relentless in his attack of Matthew, punch after punch connected with the guy’s face as Randall laughed insanely.

Will’s blood hummed through his veins as determination and anger took over, he threw his entire body weight and every ounce of mocking from the guy he had received over the past few months behind each punch. When Francis ran at Will in an attempt to tackle, his hands grasped his head in his hands and brought his knee cap up to Francis’ nose, there was a blunt crack and crimson leaked from both his nostrils, Francis stepped back again ploughed into Will’s already battered and bruised stomach, it was like hitting a train head on that sent him stumbling backwards, Will knew before it happened that the back of his head was about to connect with the bar with speed and force, until two supporting arms caught his fall from behind. Hannibal saw what was about to happen and the fatality in the fall has his limbs reacting without permission to prevent it, the second Will was stable on his feet he released the grip and sat back down.

It took six ushers to break apart the brawl, three alone to pull Randall from Matthew, even restrained Randall continued to squirm and kick out at the men, he laughed like a lunatic as the blood trickled down his chin from the chunk of flesh he had ripped from Matthew’s chest with his bare teeth. 

Hannibal was fascinated by the ferocity of the attack, Randall had some serious, dangerous tendencies. He wasn’t just dangerous to himself, but also to everyone he came into contact with, the biggest question to Hannibal is why they kept such a liability around… but where everyone saw a problem he saw a potential. 

Every captive here called Randall a lunatic, even the ushers would be extra cautious around him especially when he had one of his famous ‘breaks from reality’ that often lead to the fights amongst the captives here. They whispered behind his back and mocked his suffering, they stepped back when he passed, it was common knowledge that he had a history of mental health problems, although no one was quite sure what they were. There were a plethora of layman diagnosis and depending on who you spoke to and you'd be told in hushed, and sometimes not so hushed, tones that he was bi-polar, schizophrenic, psychotic or psychopathic but Randall didn’t care, it usually meant the people left him alone from fear of a savage attack. 

Will had never encountered one from him, Randall had no reason to lay one against him, they were friends, actually friends, and they only had each other in this place so Randall would defend that bond with his life. He saw how much Will was suffering at the hands of Mason lately, he had been there, between the lashing and the beating he saw his friends will to survive descending with each passing day. Randall offered nothing but support to Will so when Matthew AND Francis dared to stand and mock his own and Will’s pain, he saw red and defended his friend regardless of the punishment that would come.

There was an absolute silence that descended in the bar, nothing but stillness when the fight erupted.

“Randall Tier you are nothing more than an untamed animal! Every time there is trouble in this bar it is you that is the centre of it!!” Randall continued to laugh manically, using the ushers grip on each arm to force himself up and kick out at Cordell during his attempt at discipline. Randall was a ticking time bomb. Always. Any provocation, no matter how small or insignificant and his temper would blow. His signature move was to bite, he would allow the unsuspecting victim to walk away after an insult but pounce when they were no more than three steps away, and like a pit bull he would sink his teeth into their flesh, whether or not the bite ended in a bruise or the flesh being ripped from their bodies would depend on what was said, and how forgiving Randall was feeling that day.

Each man involved in the fight was restrained by an usher but only Randall struggled, Mason was informed instantly and walked into the chaos of the bar. An usher that had been present from the beginning informed Mason of what just happened and he walked toe to toe with Randall as the ushers struggled to hold the writhing form before sucker punching him in the stomach, though it did little to still the flailing limbs.

Instead Randall doubled himself up and tried to wrap his legs around Mason’s waist, “HARDER MASON I LIKE IT ROUGH!!!” Randall burst into a loud harsh cackle of laughter, so hard that it took his breath away but the lack of oxygen didn't matter, he simply screeched in a humour only he could understand. Randall was in that state of unstable intoxication in which he could find no release from the craving of maddening actions, he knew what he was doing, he did it deliberately. And yet he was also beside himself, in a sort of hysteria that he cannot stop. Hannibal recognised instantly as a full psychotic break, from a very brief diagnosis he would label it schizophrenia with bipolar tendencies.

“Take Randall to the rack, and the rest to the farm to await my orders, we don’t condone this type of behavior.” The three ushers dragged Randall screaming with laughter from the room whereas Matthew and Francis put up no fight and walked slightly behind the suited men that guided them to their punishment, Mason stood before Will and pulled a look nothing less than evil. In one swift movement Mason’s fist knocked him unconscious in the usher’s arms before he steps aside to allow the man to carry Will from the bar…

The final straw….


	5. Gracious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is Hannibal's sudden interest in Randall?
> 
> Will once again suffers at Mason's barbaric hands, but has he taken it way too far this time? 
> 
> This chapter is quite brutal, but I am happy to tell people that Will does in fact get a break in the next chapter and we get to see Mason's softer side...
> 
> Thank you to everyone and anyone still following this story especially to those who have taken the time to leave a comment and a kudos it is really appreciated and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter! A always please let me know your thoughts...

As soon as the ushers pulled the offending dancers from the bar Mason took his seat beside Hannibal to place down the USB recording the man had requested. Hannibal continued to sip at his wine, still internally evaluating the entire scene that had just played out from beginning to end, the observation told him more than any words ever could, and provided him with more opportunities than years of planning could ever present. Even when Hannibal sits quietly Mason seeks him out, sidling up for his next power fix, his ego boost at the man’s expense guaranteed. 

“Your early… I do hope the video is to your satisfaction Doctor and regardless of my now lessened mood I am still feeling quite generous, so please let me know if you require further visual confirmation of his live presence… I will even be so kind as to let you make recommendations towards his current care within my facility.” Mason feeds off Hannibal’s internal turmoil like an aphid on new spring growth, leaving him energized and buzzing while the Doctor feels drained and tense. Mason is the classic bully, but to Hannibal he is more of a parasite, boosting himself at a cost to others, he could never bring himself to be that way, being kind and thoughtful is in his nature, and even though Hannibal may come off worse every time in the eyes of god, he'd still rather be himself than Mason, he's vapid inside, needing these transitory external crutches for the internal core of weakness and the difference between them in that regard is vast.

“I will inform you if I need further confirmation Mason, but I am sure this will suffice for now, I tend to arrive early to all my commitments as I find tardiness to be distasteful.”

“And here was me thinking you just enjoyed your time here at our fantasy land…”

“I must admit I find your set up quite fascinating Mason, maybe not for the same reasons as most attendees, but fascinating none the less.”

“Ahh I am intrigued!” Mason smiled and slapped the bar in the usual arrogant form, he enjoyed Hannibal’s nature of calm indifference no matter what the situation, there was a stillness in the man that he envied, calm and collected always. “Maybe I could buy you that drink now Doctor Lecter?”

“I appreciate the offer Mason but I am driving, so I will stick to the one thank you, however I am open to a conversation.”

“Good! I will begin with apologising for the unnecessary, vulgar show that you have just witnessed, I do not condone behavior of that type in my bar by my workers… I have however been informed that I owe you a thank you! Especially as you saved my toy from a pretty nasty fall.”

“I don’t require a thank you Mason, I was simply doing what any decent human being would do as that fall would have been fatal.”

“Yeees… so I was told, it is appreciated anyway.”

“May I ask you a question Mason?”

“Of course Doctor Lecter.”

“Why do you choose to keep Randall around when you are aware that he suffers from serious mental health complications that prove him to be a danger to not only himself, but to everyone around him?”

“To be honest with you there has never been any official diagnosis, not within these walls any way, but I am aware he has them! Mental health issues or not, he is very popular with the men in here when he is functional, he even has a few regulars that refuse to see anyone else, so a constant administering of punishments and sedatives keep him calm enough to work, might I ask why you asked that specific question?”

“I am just curious, but mental health disorders such as schizophrenia with possible bipolar disorder tendencies cannot be punished away.”

“Ah, so is that your diagnosis Doctor?”

“It is, and I believe that there will come a time when it stops at violent assaults and maiming people like he just did, and he will upgrade to killing someone.”

“Perhaps I should seek alternative care for him? Or discard him before he reaches that point… out of my own curiosity, what would be your plan of care Doctor?” 

“Randall needs to be assessed and medicated, that would be mine, and any other physician’s plan of care.”

“Well then, maybe you would be interested in speaking with him, I wont lie, it would be nice to have some peace in this place, which could be achieved without Randall’s constant violent outbursts.”

“I am happy to provide care to anyone in need Mason, just let me know. Anyway, enjoy your evening I have a meeting with someone to gather information for your next file.” Hannibal stood to leave as Mason remained seated at the bar to finish his drink, smiling as the man put on his jacket.

“You never know Doctor! One of these days we may get to have that drink together.”

“You never know, good night.” Franklyn hesitated before collecting Hannibal’s empty glass and tip, not wishing to be close to Mason after the fight, he would only be forced to offer up information that is guaranteed to bring punishment to at least one of the offending dancers.

“I would say the good Doctor is up to something! What would you say my dear Franklyn?”

“I honestly wouldn’t know sir…” 

“We will have to keep our eye on him…” Franklyn was relieved when Mason simply pulled him a smile before standing to leave the bar, making his way to the farm. 

Will gasped awake when the bucket of cold water hit him. He jerked and winced, grunting slightly as he slowly opened his eyes, Will couldn’t see much beyond his blurry vision and swollen eye, but he could hear the movement out in front of him and didn’t need perfect vision to tell him who it was. Testing his limbs a few times Will found himself restrained to a wall, each cuff around his wrists and held him firmly in place and cut into his flesh regardless of his sudden stillness. 

Will shook his head in an attempt to clear some of the freezing water from his skin and tried to focus when the blurry vision approached him and placed his glasses back on his face, slowly Mason’s fuzzy smiling face came in to partial view, he guesses it’s the constant strikes to the head aiding in his ailing vision as it still flickered after the lenses are placed back on his face, but nothing was as vivid as the smell. Will recognised it instantly as one of a farm, the pig farm to be exact. There was no way he wanted to take a deep lungful of this air, even with shallow inhales through his mouth he was getting far too much of the overwhelming scent. The acidic symphony of squeals only added to the panic when Will truly realised where he was, there were only two ways being in this position could go… pen training or the rack and he truly didn’t know which was worse. 

The stoic melody of squeals continued to echo throughout the pen area of the farm, the building was nothing more than four sides of stainless steel with a matching roof, to Will it was the gateway to hell, but it isn't the physical place itself, it’s what happens within these walls. The images of his very near future throw his mind into a state of panic, a panic that robs him of all logical thinking, Will’s brain froze, offering up no course of action for his now trembling mind to take… this was it.

Mason watched as Will’s internal panic burst forward before his eyes, he knew the realisation had hit when his breathing turned to uncontrolled panting, almost hyperventilating. Will finally focused on his captor holding a small piglet swaddled in a fluffy blanket under his arm, and never in his life did Will think he would be jealous of a damn pig. Mason held it gently, swaddled it to keep it warm as he almost cooed over it, treating the piglet better than he treats most humans, but Will isn’t jealous of the animal receiving nothing less than the softness of Mason’s touch, he was envious of the fact the piglet received the man’s humanity, if the aristocrat held the same views on the lives of human beings then he wouldn’t be here.

“Inside this piglet’s brain and nervous system is one so similar to our own. One can sense the emotions within it when close enough, it’s a sense of their inner most thoughts without words, yet if they had hands or a vocal box capable of more, what then? Would they speak? Beg and plead to live as opposed to been turned in to streaky bacon? I believe so… their intelligence is unfounded! Unlike any other animal they are so similar to us, just without the ability to speak. Even a human would never learn to speak if they lacked the opportunity to learn in the right developmental window, so it begs the question, what could they do if they are given the correct tools? The answer is a lot, I should know.” Will knew Mason was crazy, but hadn’t realised to what extent, the more time he spent with the aristocrat though the more he was picking up on how unstable Mason truly was, it was scary.

“This little one is Pavlov! Say hello Pavlov, say hello!” Mason jostled the piglet a few times smiling down at it as if it were a precious bundle of joy, Will guesses to him it probably was. “Farms were once full of pigs that suffered, used more like digits in a bank balance than creatures with thoughts and feelings. But I learnt quickly how intelligent they actually are, but more than that, I learnt what emotions they were capable of feeling. Intelligence after all, is not knowledge, but creativity, likewise intelligence and complexity are not the same thing. Not being able to figure out a math sum does not mean it's alright to treat a creature as smart as this like a meat bag... not when they are capable of so much more anyway, I had hoped you would avoid learning what they are capable of Will but you just cannot seem to behave yourself, especially around the good Doctor.” Mason handed the piglet over to Cordell and then offered up a brushing movement with his fingers implying it was time for the man to leave.

Will couldn't breathe, it felt as though someone were choking him as Mason’s words echoed over and over even after he stopped talking. The sight was no better, it didn’t matter where Will looked, there was pen after pen of hyperactive pigs running and squealing and all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save him. But no one would, no one was coming. A choked cry forced itself up his throat in anticipation of what was about to happen, ever since he had heard about the rack from Randall it wasn’t something he could envision, not even in his worst nightmares, but that was only because his brain always woke him up before such a horrific image coveted his mind. And now he was about to experience the torture that his mind wouldn’t even offer up as a worst nightmare, but what about when it happens? Will his mind revert it from something he couldn’t even envision, to something his brain won't ever be able to erase?

The dread owned him in that moment, but he couldn’t move a single muscle, not even to scream. The absolute horror completely paralyzed him, he was nothing less than utterly terrified in that moment, Will truly couldn’t remember being this scared in his entire life, and it was just the beginning. The only thing that came to mind was begging, pleading with Mason… he doubted that would work, it never had before… but maybe flattery would?

“Mason I don’t have any interest in him… I was just being polite… I only want you I swear! Please don’t do this to me… please Mason. We can go upstairs and just spend some time together… it’s only you… please Mason… please…” The tears made a steady stream down Will’s face, he felt the muscles of his chin tremble like a small child but he didn’t care, there is static in his head once more, it’s the side effect of this constant fear, the constant stress he lives within. Will hears his own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from the inside and it takes something out him that he didn't know he had left to give. 

Even knowing that every word from Will’s mouth was a lie, they were words that Mason had longed to hear, especially from the young agent, he smiled slightly before scrunching his face and pushing out his lower lip in a mocking gesture to Will before standing toe to toe with him. Mason knew Will didn’t love him back, but he couldn’t resist, he leaned in a little closer and pressed their foreheads together as Will braced himself for the next violent attack, but instead Mason slammed his lips against his own and nearly knocked all wind from his lungs. 

Will hardly had a moment to react before Mason pressed his tongue to the seam of his lips, and at his grant of access, it delved inside his mouth. It was slow and soft as Mason’s hand rested below his ear, his thumb caressing Will’s cheek as their breaths mingled, slowly Will kissed back, pressing his tongue against Mason’s own as he tilted his head, anything to try and get back in the man’s good graces. 

Mason lost himself in the kiss, closing his eyes as his fingers trailed down Will’s spine, pulling himself closer to the restrained body until there was no space left between them and Will could feel nothing but the increased beating of Mason’s heart against his own chest before the man pulled back slightly. "Do I really look that naive Will?" Mason smiled as he poked the end of Will’s nose, brushing back a strand of damp brown hair back from his face, Will sniffed dejectedly as the aristocrat buried his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. 

Eagerly Mason wrapped his arms around the slender waist, continuing his soft grind into the battered body before Will feels the Man’s breath on his neck, then the tender brush of lips. Burning as they make contact with Will’s skin, a hand runs through his hair when the kisses become harder and more urgent as Will tries to remain indifferent. It doesn't do to let someone with an ego like Mason’s know how much power he has, he doesn't lean in or seem too keen but doesn’t act disgusted either, hoping a slight soothing of the man’s ego would free him from the shackles that hold him in place. "See, isn't this better? I would much rather treat you like this than the constant punishments you bring on yourself." 

“Please Mason… let me make it up to you… take me out of here… please..” With those words Mason released all hold of Will and stepped back when he realises his resolve is slipping in favor of the young agent’s soft skin.

“Oh you will be making it up to me Will I can assure you of that, but all in good time!” Will felt Mason’s hand glide down his chest and when his fingers reaches the already cold bitten nipples, he tightly pinches one and begins to squeeze tightly, Will began to squirm as Mason pinches harder, involuntary sounds leave his throat when he takes hold of the second and began to twist. The sensation is excruciating, Will can do nothing but fight against the restraints, wailing out in pain.

“AAAAAAH! UGN! Please Mason!”

“Will, when are you going to figure out that you can't get away from the restraints? The more you are struggling the more the cuffs are digging in, you are just making this more painful for yourself! Just calm down and breathe… after all, we have only just started.” Twisting again, Mason held each nipple for a few more seconds before stepping back with a smile as Will almost vomits.

“Are you calm now? It is your behaivor that has brought you here Will nothing else… you are hanging in there so well and you are making me proud, now we can start your punishment.” Mason takes the handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the spit and tears from Will’s face, he’s trying so hard to calm himself but it’s impossible right now, he braces himself for Mason’s reveal of the impending punishment but the information is stalled when a screaming starts to echo from the steel walls.

“MAAAAAAASON! HERE PIGGY PIGGY!! HAHAHAHAHA! COME GET ME PIGGY BOY!” Mason was expecting Randall’s voice sooner or later, Cordell always gave him a mild sedative before he was about to serve his time on the rack, it made securing him to the metal frame much easier without the presence of flailing limbs, the sedative never lasted long though, Randall had been given that many of the course of his time here that his body was slowly building up a tolerance to them. Randall was still in the grasp of his insanity, his breaks from reality can sometimes last days, so he is often secured on the rack or in a pen until he falls back into line with what Mason considers appropriate behavior.

“Please excuse me a moment Will.” Irritated, Mason turned from Will and walked down the narrow walkway between the pens on each side until he reaches Randall’s gate, leaning over he looked down at the naked man secured in his bent over position, inches from the floor and smiles. “You just never learn do you Randall, here we have Matthew and Francis sitting quietly, taking their punishments like good boy’s, and then we have you that just can’t stop!?” Mason gestured at the piglet pens behind him containing the two naked men who sat quietly, knowing any slight attitude or wrong word would upgrade their punishment to one of the same as Randall’s, no, they knew it was better to stay quiet and ride out their time. 

Randall never did.

“What can I say Mason? Maybe the pigs just don’t do it for me like you do! Hahahahaha!”

“Yes, I discarded your use a long time ago Randall because you are just not up to my standards! The constant mental imbalance is quite a turn off for me.”

“Such a shame, here was me thinking you just couldn’t handle me… I’m hurt!”

“How many times do I need to put you on that thing before you learn what is correct behavior Randall?”

“That’s for you to decide, don’t you know? Me being property and all!” Randall replied, shoulders shaking with laughter. “How many times do you have to make me come back? Shall I stay? Should I go! Who knows it just goes round and round! HAHAHAHAHA! LIKE A MERRY GO ROOOOOOOUNNND!” To Randall, word for word he made sense, basking in the idea he was aggravating Mason, but it was clear to the man he was still firmly gripped in the throws of insanity. 

"I don’t want you here Randall any more than you want to be, I would much rather you were spending time with your regulars and earning your keep, but no. I am starting to believe that Cordell’s theory is correct and you simply enjoy your time on the rack.”

“I’m sorry Mason… I will change.” Randall continued his snickering laugh, unphased by Mason’s cruel words, they were just forced down as always, ready to make an appearance another time. 

“You say you will change, but you don’t really mean it do you Randall? You still get that little glimmer in your eye right before your mental instability takes over, and you cause problems. What you need to remember is I don’t need to take it from you. I can discard of you permanently whenever I want and have you replaced within the hour.” Mason snapped, getting irate with Randall’s uncaring attitude.

“You can shut me up whenever you want, piggy boy... whip it out and I will give you a good suck… that should shut me up! Because that’s all you can manage Mason isn’t it?? All that length and no action! Hahaha! It’s like a cosmic joke really… giving an impotent man all that package! Can’t keep it up long enough for anything else can you piggy boy?” Every word from Randall stung because they were true, only fuelling the fire that burned inside of Mason. Every violated phrase was like adding gasoline to an already ablaze fire, as his fists began to clench and his jaw rooted, the man tried hard to disguise the rising anger as showing it would only affirm to Randall that he was indeed getting to him.

“There are many ways to shut you up permanently Randall remember that!!”

“You torture me and everyone else because you are impotent passed a good blow job! Money and power is one thing, but when you are impotent you have to compensate one way or another don’t you? But you torture me more because you want me! I know you do! HAHAHAHAHA! POOR MASON CAN’T GET IT UP! CAN’T GET IT UP! CAN’T GET IT UP! HAHAHAHA!”

“SHUT UP YOU FOUL EXCUSE OF A PERSON!” Fires of fury and hatred were smoldering in Mason’s narrowed eyes as he weighed up the pros and cons of various and creative punishments available to him for exacting revenge against Randall, and they would come.

“What a sick, twisted little man you are. You know what the worst part is Mason? You can’t even admit it. You act all charming and quirky and innocent! You pretend that you are special, superior even, but you’re not… you’re a bitch with Daddy’s money and nobody respects you, or even likes you! Not even your own sister!! Hahahaha!!” Mason could feel his blood boiling at Randall’s words. Without even realizing he had done it, Mason ripped the shears from the wall and entered the pen, shooing away the pigs as he pressed the sharp end into Randall’s abdomen, pushing in slightly in a way he knew would be painful, the fog had taken over, that red mist that blinds him to his own actions.

“Ah yes!!! More Mason I like it rough!!” Rather than wail in pain, Randall began to groan between laughter. “FINALLY! Finally! Do it Mason! I knew you had it in you piggy boy! Kill me with your own hands! I dare you!” Mason pressed the shears in further barely breaking the first layer of skin, only making Randall laugh harder.

“You can’t do it can you? Can’t kill any one yourself Mason because you are a coward!” The worst thing a person could call Mason is a coward, because it’s an aspect of himself that he knows is true, but he won’t admit to himself. No Mason hadn’t ever killed anyone with his bare hands, he had always had his hench men do the deed because he could never bring himself to. A coward will sacrifice anything to save the physical self, even at the price of emotional death, which Mason has paid, they are willing to become a monster just like he has, letting the dark self invade where his true self once did.

“SHUT UP!” Mason didn’t know what he was trying to do, all he could feel was the sheer burning hatred as it seared through him at Randall’s words, only irritated further when the restrained man simply mocked his anger, tilting his head back as much as the restraints would allow as he panted and drooled mimicking an aroused state. 

“Hahaha! HAHAHAHAHA!! MAKE ME! MAKE ME! SHUT ME UP MR IMPOTENT!!” Mason turned the shears and swung them hard at Randall’s head knocking him unconscious instantly, before slamming the gate closed behind him and stomping back to stand in front of Will. The fact that Randall had wound the man up further scared Will even more because it was now him that will suffer Mason’s increased anger, but at the same time he didn’t blame his friend knowing he wasn’t in a logical frame of mind right now.

“Now, let’s continue and see if you can change my mood, and maybe even save yourself from the rack? This here is something my workers use to keep control of some of the more unruly pigs, you never know, in time you may even start to enjoy it Will.” Mason unhooked something from the wall and twirled what Will recognised to be a cattle prod in front of his face before moving it to the centre of his stomach and begins to count down… 

“Three…”

“NO MASON PLEASE!!”

“Two…”

“Mason please! I’m begging you please don’t!!”

“One…”

“MASON!! UGGGNNNNNN!” Will Screamed louder than he thought possible when he feels nothing but white-hot pain, a static noise fills the room as he twitches and thrashes from the searing voltage penetrating his body. The pain takes over a portion of Will’s brain, nothing but agony sears through his abdomen better than a branding iron until his mind concedes to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion.

“Just a few more seconds, Will.” The shocks continued for a few more seconds before Mason finally shut it off, but Will’s body continued to twitch and shake violently. “I think we should try the highest setting, it’s one I haven’t used yet, on a person or a pig… I am curious though! And you can thank Randall for the extra aggravation in my mood! Some friend huh!?” Will feels Mason place the prongs against his pelvis just inches above his manhood and the fear increases tenfold.

“M-Mason please don’t! I’m begging you please! I will be good I promise! I won’t ever speak to him again! I will do better!” Will is hyperventilating, his words don’t come out clear but he has to try. “I will be good for you Mason I swear!! Please Mason!”

“Will I did not give you permission to speak ok? I’m going to allow that little slip up because I know you are a little uncomfortable right now, but I really don’t think you are understanding the real issue here! I hold no objection with you passing the time of day with the good Doctor, but there is a big difference in being polite and acting like a slut. Accepting drinks, the smiles, and the deep conversations between the two of you are most distasteful and insulting to me, you just need to learn the difference that is all.” Will began to sob like a child, he can’t take this anymore, any of it, this entire existence is torture.

“If you keep breathing like that Will then you are going to pass out, crying isn't going to help anything ok? Just relax and let yourself feel everything I'm doing. You are pleasing me, and your pain is pleasing me. Once you finally accept my control and dominance over you then all your fear and reluctance will melt away and you will finally be a good toy ok? AND NOTHING LIKE THAT PIECE OF FILTH STRAPPED TO THAT DAMN RACK!!! Ten more seconds at the highest voltage and you are all done!

Ok, Ten…”

“UNNNGGGHHH!!” The surges of electricity cause more and more pain the longer they go on, Will’s teeth grind together as he tries not to scream, blood trickles down his chin from where he's bitten his tongue, his lips, his cheeks, anything but screaming out. The shocks sear and sizzle like fire scorching through Will’s entire body, coming to an end only at the ends of his toes and fingertips, but when Mason moved it to his groin all bets are off, he can no longer hold back his cries. They tear jaggedly from him, primal yelps akin to a tortured animal. 

“Nine…”

Eight… 

Will thrashed as the shocks penetrated every inch of his body, tears fell freely as he screamed even more, voice beginning to crack as he howls in agony, the shocks just get more and more intense.

Seven…

The screams turn to nothing but loud whimpers…

Six…

Will’s vision fuzzes and blackens around the edges…

Five…

The shocks arc throughout every inch of Will’s body and Mason gives him no break and no chance to regroup, just shocks him again and again and again and again, in a different place every time as Will’s body jerks and twitches at the shock, at the burn.

Four…

Will’s body begins to convulse uncontrollably…

Three…

…

Two…

Oh god no, Will can feel it but he can’t stop it, please. PLEASE NO…. Will feels his bladder empty all over himself before the drops of urine trickle down and hit the concrete floor. He wants to die.

One…

Finally, FINALLY, it stops, and Will's ragged breaths rush out of him in a sob. Everything is blurry, his eyes film over with involuntary tears and the room is silent except for the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, even the squeals have ceased to exist. Although the shocks come to a halt Will’s body continues to shake violently, his throat burns and the sounds that leave it are pathetic and hoarse.

“There, that wasn’t too bad was it Will? Breath… you’re ok.” Mason returned the cattle prod to the hook on the wall and grasped Will’s face hard, brushing his lips against the agents. Not innocently like a tease but hot, fiery, passionate and demanding. Will wanted to pull away as he tried to regain his breath, the bile rises but he can no longer think straight. 

Mason knew Will didn’t love him back, but he couldn’t resist. He leaned in a little closer and pulled their foreheads together. Christ Mason couldn’t fight against the thoughts that were going through his mind, Will’s very scent flooded his senses and it was as though he belonged to Will, like he belonged to him. The realisation of his actions has Mason pulling back, moving to unfasten the four restraining cuffs and watched as Will crumpled to his hands and knees, the perfect position. 

“Now you can put those pretty lips to good use whilst you are down there, and when you have finished you can use them to beg for forgiveness… if you do well then maybe we can forget all about the rack and go upstairs and have a nice evening together, how does that sound my pet?” Will is eye level with Mason opening his belt and nope that’s it, it’s coming out and Will can’t stop it, he doesn’t think he wants to because he would rather die than live like this anymore. For the first time Will looked up to capture Mason’s gaze, maintaining the eye contact he had always worked so hard to avoid.

“You can do what you like to me Mason but I won't beg. Not anymore. A person like you is so empty except for that urge toward power and dominance… you will do what you do regardless of my reaction to it, my tears, my fear, and my pleading, are all aspects you crave to fund your sick pleasure so no, I won't behave in a way that gives you more of that sick pleasure you crave. I cannot control what you do to me, but I can control my reaction to it, and I choose one of silence. I’m done.”

“It would be wise for you to stop talking now Will, before you say something that you will regret.”

“My only regret is not standing up to you sooner… you are nothing but a child in a man’s body, cruel and unjust… I pity you, but I save my prayers for those who deserve them, those who at least try to love and be kind, what do you see when you look in a mirror Mason? Are you proud of your decrepit image? You are a violent bully, you always will be… and nobody will ever love you Mason, because love comes from a true connection between human beings which is something you are not! You wouldn’t know where to begin forging that connection.” Will began to laugh with relief, it was a laughter that he could feel in his lungs, so hard that it took his breath away. The lack of oxygen didn't matter though as all the anguish of the past few months melted like snowballs in a microwave, the bout of laughter created a small vacation, a blessed relief from all the distress that had forced its way into Will’s life. For a single moment, nothing mattered, he lost all the tightness in his chest, the muscles in his neck relaxed and his fear evaporated. After all that had occurred, he felt hope, hope that his words would push Mason over the edge and he would finally be offered relief in death. 

There was something in the glare that Mason offered up, for the first time there was no anger present within his eyes, just a stillness that travelled throughout every inch of his body, like he couldn’t will any part of himself to move. Mason felt as though he were stuck underwater, everything was slow and warbled as Will’s words really sunk in, he felt sick at the rejection, the pure hatred from a man Mason knows he loves. 

In that moment Will realised he'd misinterpreted Mason’s actions, his words, his expressions, and his degrading tone. The realisation dawned that Mason was in love with him... as if the man had been speaking a violent language that he couldn't understand, it all fell into place. In those brief seconds there was nothing but a deep pain surging through the aristocrat and Will basked in it, happy to finally bring some pain to his attacker. Although he will never know why, the slightest presence of empathy for Mason was there even though he didn’t deserve another human’s empathy. 

Will watched Mason’s eyes as they stared down at him without even blinking. The anger was nothing more than a shield for pain, like a cornered animal scared for its life, lonely and desperate, exactly what Mason was in that moment. 

Still Mason simply stood frozen, taking in the enormity of Will’s accurate, hurtful words and grinned demonically as he breathed in real slow, catching himself before speaking. The emotional pain building within Mason had an unpleasant warmth to it, eating at his stomach. There's a nausea too, he’s often prized himself in ignoring pain and just carrying on regardless, but that just isn't possible right now. It owns Mason in that moment, dominating every thought, but scarier than anything else it controls his every action.

When Mason couldn’t take the internal pain any longer he picked up the knife that had been hooked on to the wall beside the cattle prod and Will firmly believed he was about to get his wish of release, he maintained eye contact with Mason as the knife sat precariously on his skin, soft enough to not pierce his neck, but hard enough to enforce the intended message. The harsh metal should have been cold and raw against Will’s bare skin, but his numb body could not feel anything except the excruciating pain of each bruise, each humiliating degradation, and now, every burn from the cattle prod. His throat is held in a silver grasp and all he could do was stare lifelessly into Mason’s dead stare, waiting for him to make that fatal cut as he held the blade and a stare of terrifying coldness that Will had never seen before.

Trembling, Will fained bravery and tipped up his chin, forcing the flesh of his neck further into the sharpened edge, tempting Mason to end his anguish, hoping he would. A small stream of blood trickled from the feeble cut he could not feel but still Will did not flinch or remove his eyes from Mason’s, even when a cruel smile stretched out across gaunt features. Will’s frozen heart shifted at the sight of his merciless gaze, his bent legs almost failing beneath him while fighting the urge to extend, to push himself onto the blade. Mason’s steadfast grip on the polished weapon shifted, causing more crimson liquid to flow from the raw wound it had already inflicted, it was almost as though he were trying to will himself to do it, but didn’t quite have the balls to make the final push.

The grin spread over Mason’s face, wide and open, showing his over-whitened teeth and in that moment his motives were laid bare, he was a mocker, one who enjoyed whatever torment he could inflict on others, and he was about to unleash it on Will one way or another. But it wouldn’t be death, Mason just couldn’t seem to bring himself to do it. 

“Your words mean nothing to me Will, you are property nothing more, killing you would be a relief that I am not going to extend to you, especially after those words, if you will not submit, you will suffer.” Will couldn't defend himself against the first kick that made contact with his exposed stomach, it knocked all wind out of him and took away any chance of fighting back. Mason grabbed him by the hair and dragged him up only to send him back down to ground with a fist right to the face. Once again Will was pulled up by his hair as Mason forced eye contact, “You are mine Will.” Those were the last words that registered before he felt the handle of the knife connect with his temple and everything turned to black. 

When Will ceased to move Mason dropped the knife and stepped back, wide eyed when the rage fuelled fog cleared from his mind and he saw the full ramifications of his actions when a thick pool of blood began to form on the ground beneath Will’s head, slightly hyperventilating as he looked down at the bloody mess slumped at his feet. An internal mantra started inside Mason’s mind as his body began to tremble. What have I done? I’ve taken this too far! In all likely hood Mason knows he has just killed Will, he had just gotten so angry when he rightfully called him a bully, but no he wasn’t! He was nothing like his dad was! He was the violent bully not him! And being told that nobody would ever love him just crippled him inside, it was his biggest fear and it had been confirmed… they say the truth hurts, and that above all else hurt Mason deeply, so when the familiar feeling of emotional pain surged he lashed out, it was the only way he knew how to deal with those feelings.

By the time Mason had finished Will was no longer breathing, he turned over the slumped form and tried CPR but it did nothing. Quickly, Mason turned and walked from the farm at a brisk pace, unable to view the repercussions of his actions, he instructed Cordell to do ‘whatever he could’ as he passed him outside and continued the fast walk until he reached his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. 

Mason moved around the room as though there were a hurricane inside of him, pacing back and forth, standing and sitting as the thoughts accelerate inside his head. His breaths come in gasps and feels like he will black out at any moment, when the room begins to spin Mason rest his head on his forearms pressed against the wall, trying to make everything slow to something his brain and body can cope with… he tightens his grip on his own hair as a powerful wave of nausea invades his gut.

The thoughts are racing with what if’s, regrets, but mostly self-hatred, maybe he hadn’t really dealt with the issues his dad had bestowed upon him? Mason couldn’t feel the tears welling in his eyes, but he knew they were there and despised the weakening factor.

There are times when his brain fries up, a mist of rage filled fog clouds his mind and he loses all control of himself, it's no excuse he knows that, he wants to own his behavior, try to be good a person but then it’s as though a trigger is flicked and his emotions turn cold, fearful, anxious. It’s in those moments Mason is least proud of who he is, but he can’t expose that vulnerable side of him to the world so carries on with an indifferent persona, because showing his weakness would only destroy the powerful image he has spent so long building up. ‘Weakness is for pussies’ his dad would always say, any sign of sadness of weakness would be met with harsh beatings to toughen Mason up. 

Those memories have been the result of the instability that dwells within him for many years now, caring for others, pouring out love without measure just isn’t something he will do as there is always that chance his efforts will be rebuffed, rejected, and that thought is all too much to bare. Mutual love is something Mason yearns for though, yet never knowing how to ask for it so instead he demands it, and will happily live under the false illusion from his captives, it is the only medicine that can heal his fractured soul. But still like an innocent child, he holds out for love, a real love within that dark place he himself creates, but prays for the light to reach him.

The self hatred and regret overwhelms Mason in that moment, the nausea clawed at his throat as he tried to force down the bile, but it was too late. Doubling over on his knees chunks of partially digested chicken spewed out of his coughing, choking mouth, his stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out all over the bedroom floor. Mason’s face turned white as it dripped bile, sweat, and tears. Lurching forward again he grasps at his knees as the pungent stench of vomit invaded his nostrils, heaving even though there was nothing left to expel.

In that moment there was a true realisation of his feelings towards Will, and the thought of losing him became too much to handle.

The world turned into a blur, and so did all the sounds. The taste. The smell. Everything was just gone. Mason braced his palms against his bent knees on the ground trying to hold back the strange feelings rumbling inside him but he couldn’t. A lone tear traced down his cheek and just like that, the floodgates opened. So many years of backed up tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down his face as his chin trembled, breathing heavier than he ever had before. Mason gasped for air that simply wasn’t there, throat burning as it formed a silent scream. 

It felt as though a part of Mason was dying inside, the sobs were stifled at first as he attempted to hide his grief, then overcome by the wave of his emotions he broke down entirely, all his defences washed away in those salty tears as he just gave way to the enormity of his grief. Mason rest back against the wall and pulled his knees tight to his chest and sobbed into his hands the way a small child would. What had he done? If only his father could see him now, curled up crying like a weakling, he would have been called every insulting name in the book before the tirade of insults morphed into an even more vicious attack.

Knowing Cordell would be up soon to inform him of what was happening Mason walked to the bathroom on unsteady limbs and climbed into the shower. The nausea swirled unrestrained in his now empty stomach, head swimming with half formed regrets feeling as if his blood had become tar whilst his heart struggled to maintain a steady beat. Mason’s melancholy mood hung over him like a black cloud, raining personal sorrow down on him, it just wouldn’t stop. Bracing his hands against the wall he let the warm water run down the flesh of his back as he tried desperately to pull himself together, there was no way he would allow anyone to see him this weak, so, as he dressed in front of the mirror his mind ordered his body to fall in line. Retreating from an apparent air of calm indifference would be a disaster, so he stood stern until nothing in his face betrayed his appearance, it was a mask of surety, and that’s how it remained as he sat on the bed for the next hour until he heard Cordell’s expected knock on the door.


	6. Gracious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason is overwhelmed with regret after taking his anger too far with Will, he makes promises of a better life but will he stick to them?
> 
> Will wakes up in a strange place with no memory of how he got there, what is he running from and why is Hannibal trying to convince him to return to it?
> 
> What part does Randall play in Hannibal's plans? Will his ailing mind be able to complete what needs to be done?
> 
> A big thank you to everyone and anyone following this story especially to those who have left a comment and a kudo it is really appreciated and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

Will woke as though he’d been hooked up to the mains, no sleepiness, no slow warm up or stretch, just a distorted consciousness. Within seconds his eyes snap open wide, dreams and memories not just forgotten but completely erased from his minds eye. As he rouses Will is first aware of the coolness in the air and its loamy fragrance, the ground is fresh tonight… what his body lays upon is the second thing that registers, it’s hard and lumpy as if he were on a bed of asphalt… he was. 

Will stills in the cool air as he looks up at the darkened view, the stars are non-existent tonight even when the clouds that appear so dense break away from the canvass, they are no longer white or a paler gray, instead they are blackened shadows that shift rapidly with the howling wind. There are times they move just enough to reveal the full moon, but for the most part, this night will be without the benefit of its silvery light. 

Will’s clothes feel damp against his skin that is drenched in the usual routine of the nights perspiration. Sitting up was confusing but not painful and aside from his own intake of breath, there is nothing to be heard but the rustle of the trees either side of the long empty road. It is simply too dark to see much at all, the black trunks just blend against an even darker backdrop pushing Will’s imagination to supply the horrors nestled between the voids. 

Why was he outside? Why was he laid in the middle of the road? 

After a minute or two seated on the cold asphalt the sound of running water begins to permeate the silence, he is near a brook. A brook would hide his scent, cover his tracks. Will wants to run, from what he isn’t sure, but he knows that someone is coming… they’re going to take him back, but he isn’t sure to where. With a push of unsteady hands Will climbs to stand on faltering steps, the long dark road is the same both in front and behind him, but they are coming so he has to move, he has to pick a direction. 

Suddenly, the silence surrendered to the haunting scream of footsteps, the drawn out even steps approach from behind and continue to lurk closer, Will is hyperventilating, trying to avoid making a sound. Each second seems to play on forever as he stands perfectly still listening to the footsteps of his likely murderer, Will didn’t turn when he heard the steps stop directly behind him, he knew that sound, he knew that huffing breath and hooves that echo with each step against the concrete. Only his peripheral vision caught site of the black stag as it slowly walked by, turning slightly to look at Will before it continued its slow walk as though offering up a silent invitation to follow.

The sky became impossibly darker, low with ominous black clouds when the wind picked up, but Will felt nothing, his bare feet didn’t ache as they stepped on the stony asphalt, neither did his skin feel cold against the evenings crisp air when he was only covered by a t-shirt and shorts. The first crack of lightening rent the air and within seconds the rolling boom of the thunder reverberated overhead so loud that it pulled Will’s gaze to the skies before the snort of breath in front of him stole back his focus. The stag that stands inches away from him glances back with such darkened eyes before it turned and started it’s slow walk down the seemingly never ending road. 

Upon the animal’s first footstep the rain began to fall, slow to start, splattering against the ground haphazardly without ever touching an inch of Will’s flesh. With nowhere left to turn he began to walk, following behind the stag felt as though he were being led to safety, the dread has now passed but the confusion remains. With each step Will’s feet tremble, his legs twitched, fighting the impulse to whirl around and sprint down that damp, shadowed road but somehow that way felt worse. Slowly, Will’s brain ordered his body to pick up his feet in an unbalanced gait, carelessly dropping the lead weights to the ground with each harrowing step.

Time seems to blur as they walk, but the only thing to do is keep moving. Will is walking unusually slow, almost robotically, as if his brain were struggling to tell each foot to take the next step like he were in a stupor of hypnosis… but still he trudged along the road at a sedate pace, his mind focused on nothing but the gentle footsteps that seemed to echo throughout the desolate space.

Will isn’t sure how long he’s being walking, he knows it has been a while but he doesn’t feel tired, with every step taken he seemed to have moved nowhere, the outline of trees remained the same, there was still no end of the road in sight, it was calm. Will would stop, start, take a short run to see if that got him anywhere, but it did not, it was only when a gust of dry wind swept by it finally began to change, the forced air seems to collapse away the canopy of trees, breaking away to be replaced with a new row of decaying houses where windows have long shattered in the weakness of their structures and the rotting wood screams out as if it were in pain… all except for one house, the house positioned at the end of the seemingly never ending road.

Will began to stall, not wanting to venture closer to the unknown structure all while knowing this is where he had been headed. Every time Will stopped his entranced walk the stag would also, unwilling to go further without the lost soul, he was the keeper. For every noise Will’s ears become sharper and his mind paranoid, every snap of a twig is a predator, they are coming to take him back. For each sound Will’s brain jumps to the most fearsome thing it could be and going back was that threat, his body prepares for flight, fright or freeze. 

For the most part he just freezes, running will give away his position…

Now towering in front of Will stood an exquisite house that sent out an instant negative vibe that engulfed any remaining calm, it wasn’t decayed or desolate like the others it was immaculate but still Will could feel evil oozing from every crack and crevice of the dismal stone walls. Demonic gargoyle statues hung so high up on the walls they seemed to reach the dark sky, they just added to the frightening atmosphere. The moaning and creaking noises being projected from the house somehow seemed the creepiest thing though, finally Will forced himself to move, following the stag up the porch steps.

Every fibre of Will’s being told him to run, but there was nowhere to go.

The overgrown branches covered the door as if warning him off but as the stag approached the large wooden door creaked open, Will followed, slowly walking further into the place, following the stag that seemed to know the place well, it’s hooves echoed with each step against the wooden floor that only got dustier with each step. 

The inside certainly didn’t match exterior.

The old vintage furniture passed was broken, chairs without legs, cabinets without doors, just like a body with no soul that would never work again. The house was huge even by mansion standards as it seemed to take a while to reach the foot of the old fashioned stair case, the sight has Will turning, he wants to run from the house but it’s as though everything behind him no longer existed, there’s no way back, it’s just a sheet of blackness that seemed more terrifying than what was in front of him. 

Forcing himself forward Will followed the stag, climbing the less than stable stairs until he was met with another dark hallway, after only seconds the furthest room at the end of the corridor bursts with light, following a soft music, the composition was of an orchestra but the tones eluded him. With an ashen face he forced his body forward… Will knows wherever the stag is leading him, whatever he needs to see is in that room, what else can he do other than follow? There’s nowhere to run, there’s way to escape… there’s nobody coming to help.

It’s time to face the fear…

“Enter.” Mason hid his emotional agony well but allowed the slightest hint of his true emotions to show around Cordell as he always had, never with anyone else though. What could Cordell say? He was Mason’s friend, his ally, it sounds so cold but it was true, their relationship was a business arrangement for Mason, an alliance of convenience. But to Cordell he was there for Mason no matter what and probably would have been if the large monthly pay check came to a stop, in honesty he was just as twisted and enjoyed his role within Mason’s fun house.

“I have moved Will to the infirmary Mason, he appears to have a fractured skull and slight swelling of the brain which is also known as an intracranial injury. We would usually classify the injury itself based on severity ranging from mild to traumatic and we would usually assess the severity via a patients symptoms such as the presence of headaches, confusion, ringing ears, fatigue, mood or behavioral changes… which we are unable to do right now.”

“Because he’s still unconscious?” Mason still didn’t move from the bed, choosing to look down at his clasped fingers rather than show any signs of vulnerability.

“Unfortunately Mason, I believe Will is in a coma.” Mason’s brain stutters for a moment, every part of him goes on pause while his thoughts catch up with Cordell’s words, there are so many questions that he needed answers to but each one would out him for the fact that he cared, so he maintained his indifferent exposure instead.

“So when will he wake up?”

“I’m afraid I can’t put a time scale on that, it could be hours, it could be days… it could even be months, but not to worry Mason I’m confident he will wake up in time.” 

“I would like to see him.” Mason grieved on the inside in that moment just as he always had, he believed that he hid his sorrow from everyone so well, but he was one of those people that anyone could read easily. One could see it in his eyes, his movements, his drooping arrogant posture at times of upset. However, no one dared mention it to him from fear of his reaction. Mason felt that his superior position demanded a look of complete confidence and control at all times so he exuded arrogance to compensate.

“Of course sir.” Mason finally moved from the bed and walked with Cordell to the small infirmary the burley butler had set up within his home, it was merely a means to an end to avoid visits to hospital if any of the dancers were in need of medical care.

“How will you treat him?”

“Treatment all depends on the recovery stage of Will, in this initial acute stage, the primary aim is to stabilize him and focus on preventing further injury which I have done by placing Will on a respirator and administering an IV of a sedative to prevent any involuntary spasms. Rehabilitation is the main treatment for each stage of recovery, but for now stability of Will’s respiration and circulation will need to be sustained through the use of intubation, ventilation, and administration of intravenous fluids or blood and other supportive care as it is needed.”

“So he will be fine when he wakes up?”

“You must prepare yourself for possible short or long term brain damage. This may not be an issue at all but it is something that is entirely possible Mason, right now we just need to focus on the fact that Will is stable and no longer in immediate danger. Don’t beat yourself up over it, we all lose our temper sometimes and I will do everything in my power to ensure that Will recovers for you sir, you wont be inconvenienced long.” 

“Thank you Cordell, Please ensure Randall serves an extra six- no eight hours in his current position! His mouth caused this entire inconvenience and behavior like that deserves adequate punishment.” 

“Of course sir, I will also restrict his privileges for the next week.”

“Make it a month.” Reaching the infirmary door has Mason feeling ill, he is unsure if he can face the repercussions of his actions up close, but cant quite turn away either.

“It might look a little scary at first, but he’s in good hands and I am confident that Will is going to make a full recovery Mason, he’s a fighter.” Cordell offered the small pep talk with a sympathetic smile when Mason stood in the doorway of the infirmary room seemingly unable to make the last few steps that would bring him into the room of his own making, he had warned Mason about the drainage tube going into Will’s head, about the ventilator and the heart monitor, and vast array of other tubes and machines keeping the young agent alive in an effort to prepare Mason for what he was about to see. But knowing and seeing are two completely different things, Will just looked so vulnerable surrounded by all that equipment, it was a far cry from his usual cocky demeanor. 

Mason approached the bed slowly and looked down at his own handy work, the sight is a despair of heady blackness that takes away all hope, that notion has become meaningless seeing the severity of Will’s injury. 

Mason refuses to think positive in any situation least of all this one, because when the outcome is negative it’s a far greater blow, if his mind should linger on such hopeful ideas they start to feel like cruel tricks, so he anticipates instead and destroys anything good that comes in to his life before it destroys him, but he didn’t want to destroy Will, Mason wants him back. The silent pleas are all he can focus on, those are the ones that keep his heart beating, the silent promises that he will treat Will better… the commitments feel so thin already because deep down Mason knows he won’t follow through with his promises.

“You know sir many people believe that talking to coma patients can help to keep them calm, even help them to wake up.”

“Thank you Cordell, that will be all for now.” 

“Certainly sir, I will give you your privacy.”

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

When the door closed behind Cordell the steady sound of the heart monitor filled the otherwise silent room like a constant reaffirmation of what Mason had done, the sound nearly pushed his legs to run from the room but instead, he pulled up a chair and sat beside Will's bed.

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

In the half light of the room Will looks like the shadow he's become, there’s a lifeless to him, bruised and beaten. Mason wants to beg, plead, get down on his knees and tell him that his life here has meaning, that he’s sorry, but he knows it will make no difference now. Will’s ears are closed in his sedated state, his mind has put up all barriers to new information. 

Mason is already in transition to become a person he never wanted to be by falling for Will, the knowledge of his unrequited feelings rise as Mason looks at Will, and so does the bitterness he associates that feeling with, it’s like bile in his mouth. ‘love is for weaklings’ his father would say and Mason lived his life by that motto, using and buying men to play with however he chose to until they ‘broke’ then he would just buy a new one… that was fine until Will came along and invoked the feelings he was so desperately trying to shield himself from.

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

Mason had known that to love deeply meant risking great pain, it was the reason he had pursued superficial relationships and one night stands, but now, he is no longer the master, he was a puppet and he cant stand it, it infuriates him. The tears were not quiet and controlled when they start, Mason sobbed to draw breath, his lungs heaved and he knew there was no cure for his pain and if Will dies it would last a life time.

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

“I didn’t mean to take it this far Will, and for that I am sorry, but it’s not my fault. I can talk for hours as you know… so if you want me to shut up you will have to wake up.” Mason huffed out a pitiful laugh between the aching sobs he tried to force back down.

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

“I’m sorry…”

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

“If I could take it back I swear I would…” 

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

“Cordell told me that it may take a while for you to wake up, and if you do, there is a possibility of brain damage… I am really hoping that isn’t an issue because I don’t want to have to put you out of your misery if it is, RANDALL JUST WOULDN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!”

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

"But regardless I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet, so please don’t give up… I need you, I promise I will treat you better." 

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

Internally Mason retracts all the bad things he has done to Will, they were never a reflection on him, only on his own inner demons. Will had worked hard to obey and Mason only ever saw what he didn’t do right, but he knows it was more about his own feelings that he couldn’t admit, in his misplaced entitlement he gave out only aggressive rage, Mason had to withdraw from his conscience and force himself to punish Will by only listening to his evil streak. He knew he'd done something pretty awful when he had to work so hard to justify it, the more demanding the reparations his subconscious required the worse he knew it was. 

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

Mason watches on as the ventilator forced Will to take in ragged breaths, it’s been hours now but there still hasn’t been any real movement. The man knows it's raining outside, he can hear it clearly beating against the glass windows as it mixes with the flashes of lightning and the rolling of thunder. Its appropriate weather given the circumstances, like hell was coming for Mason and he deserved it. 

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep.

After twelve hours and no sleep, any twitch or slight movement from Will forces a breath from Mason’s lungs he hadn’t realised he was holding in and he does something he never has, he prayed. Prayed that if Will woke up, he would treat him better. Will looks as though he had been to hell and back, Mason supposes he has, every inch of his face and body is littered with dark bruises

Bleep. Bleep. Bleep…

Two days later and Mason still hadn’t moved from beside Will’s bed. Cordell brought him food that he didn’t eat, clothes that he didn’t change into, and made conversations that Mason didn’t reply to. It was barely acknowledged when the burley butler walked into the infirmary room and this time was no different, but Mason had a visitor that he had already put off once and it wasn’t his place to do it a second time. 

“Mason I am very sorry to disturb you but Doctor Lecter is in the bar, something about a visit with Randall? He did call by yesterday morning but I explained you were busy elsewhere, would you like me to ask him to come back another time?”

“No Cordell that wont be necessary, I will be down in a moment.” Mason placed a kiss on the back of Will’s hand clasped in his own before putting on his best game face, he straightened up his clothes, took a deep breath and entered the bar to take a seat beside Hannibal who had already noticed a slight dip in the tired looking aristocrats arrogance before he even spoke. There had been the usual scope of the place over the previous two nights and he guesses both Will and Randall’s absence has something to do with Mason’s apparent distress, unsurprising after the fight that had broken out right in front of him.

“Good evening Doctor Lecter, I do apologise for the inconvenience of our missed appointment yesterday… I would have called but it appears you have failed to leave any of your contact details, no matter though as you always seem to appear right when your presence is required! I believe you are here to speak about Randall?”

“Yes, I did come yesterday as we agreed but your butler explained that you were indisposed, but I can assure you Mason it was no inconvenience.”

“Goood, I was and am dealing with an unfortunate situation, but I am sure it will pass in time.”

“I’m sure it will, do you still require my services with Randall? I am happy to come back another time if he is also… indisposed.”

“Randall is available and I think your services would be wise Doctor, before I make any final decisions on his life anyway... we wouldn’t want anyone saying I didn’t give him a fair chance now would we?”

“Do you happen to know his current mental state?”

“I do not, as I mentioned my presence has been required to deal with more pressing matters, matters that he caused I might add! Although I am aware he finished up his time on the rack early this morning so my guess is he will be a little erratic, nothing less than he deserves though Doctor, nothing less. I will have Cordell escort you to his room so you can conduct your assessment and you can explain your findings afterwards, I would offer a drink but it appears I am the one without time on this occasion.”

“Ok, well I shall wait for Cordell’s escort.” Mason didn’t respond, he didn’t poke or play with Hannibal which intrigued the man, he simply offered up a coy smile and left the bar without word to return to the infirmary. Cordell is quick to escort Hannibal from the bar to Randall’s door, which was only a mere few steps away in the most guarded part of the house, every inch of the place is littered with smartly dressed ushers, all carrying weapons… it just added extra excitement to the puzzle.

“Would you like Randall to be restrained for your assessment? I am sure he will be a little on edge after his punishment which is when he tends to lash out and the results are often quite ghastly, I wouldn’t want you to lose a piece of that finely tailored suit.”

“No thank you, that will not be necessary.”

“You may regret that.”

“That is quite possible, but I am sure we will be fine.” Hannibal cant figure out if Cordell’s hostility is the result of scepticism or intimidation, the burley butler clearly enjoyed his standing in the home and was probably territorial of any one that could replace him, if that was a worry to him of course. Randall is sitting on his bed when Cordell opens the door for Hannibal, but regardless of the less than silent entrance he doesn’t even seem to acknowledge anyone entering.

“I will be right outside if you require any assistance.” With that Cordell closed the door leaving Hannibal to deal with the erratic Randall, who still hadn’t calmed from his latest stint on the rack. There is something deeply disturbing about this concrete box to Hannibal, it has been engineered with absolute precision, the corners are sharp and straight, the window a perfect square with evenly spaced bars sitting behind the frosted glass that offers no view. Someone designed these cells the dancers call bedrooms using their god given talents to create something so soulless as to constitute additional punishment. Apparently taking their liberty is not enough, keeping them from those they love is not enough, seizing their free will to pay for their own captive upkeep in this mansion is not enough. This place is designed to take so much more than that, the solid gray color of the walls has nothing to break it apart from the small metal frame considered a bed that is scarce of comfort, the bed that holds a thin mattress, a pillow, and a thinning sheet is as good as it gets for the dancers here.

Randall is staring blankly forward, murmuring gibberish words to himself as he flexes his fingers occasionally, Hannibal pulls a smile of empathy at the lost soul before taking the chair at the other side of the small room and drags it a bit closer to the bed before settling down with a sigh. Many people attribute an innocence to those who suffer certain psychological issues, and Hannibal was no different, Mason was clearly weaponizing Randall’s own insanity against himself, it wasn’t just cruel it was despicable. 

Hannibal gives Randall a few moments to register his presence in the room, clearly he’s still in the mild grasp of insanity, then clears his throat. “Hello, Randall.”

Randall’s eyes finally snap up and focus long enough to meet Hannibal’s’ own but his brow furrows in confusion, he knows who the man is, but is confused by the private visit. Randall knows Hannibal isn’t a participant of the activities that go on here, he also knows the Doctor is scoping the place out during his visits to the bar and his end game is to betray Mason. That knowledge came to Randall the very first time he looked at Hannibal, but it didn’t answer why he was sitting in his room.

Randall’s perception of people was particularly creepy, it was creepy because he was accurate in his analysis every single time... his distorted mind gave him the unique ability to assess any situation and it’s outcome. It was a game he often played with his own subconscious, guessing a dancer or patron’s intentions or actions before they put them into play and rewarded himself when the images played out as he predicted, the game simply kept his frantic mind occupied. 

So why was Hannibal in his room? What was his motive?

“Hello… would you like me to take my shorts off now?”

“No Randall, I am not here for that.”

“Why are you here?”

“I am here to help you, do you remember who I am?” Randall sits up straighter and leans forward, closer to Hannibal as he examines the man’s face before his shoulders relax, yes he knew Hannibal, but he doesn’t know the intention behind the presence and that is what’s important. 

“You work for Mason… you got Will into trouble… I got Will into trouble… Will was zapped… like ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ… and now I don’t know where Will is… because of the pigs, and I am in trouble.” Randall’s mind was a fascinating anomaly, there can be nothing but sense and logic owning his mind but his break from reality will have him speaking in gibberish as though he were a toddler learning the concept of words.

“Why do you think you are in trouble Randall?”

“Because Will is dead… I’m next because it’s my fault… I made Mason mad and he broke his toy.” The human brain in fear can become so scattered and unfocused that it hijack’s the ability for logical analysis of a situation, this leads to it producing a plethora of paranoid ideas that sound so plausible, even the teller fails to see them for what they are and Randall’s was no different. So currently, Hannibal is trying to assess if Randall’s ramblings are in fact the paranoid delusions of a scrambled mind, or if they are truths spoken with a scattered vocabulary.

Randall doesn’t strike Hannibal as stupid, in fact he considers the troubled soul to be extremely perceptive and intelligent, but intelligence can be a very dangerous element for an unstable person to possess because they can manipulate their demeanor to suit a situation, meaning there is a very good chance Randall’s current behavior is a psychopathic ploy of crazy at play.

“What makes you think that Will is dead Randall?” 

“I made Mason mad… then he did something to Will and Cordell carried him out bleeding in the head... he’s broken, are you here to break me?” Randall’s eyes once again wander away from Hannibal’s face to stare pensively at the opposite wall, leaning back against the headboard as his hands return to rest on his knees.

“I would like to focus on you for now Randall, but I am not here to break you, breaking you serves no purpose to me.” Randall looked up once more appearing surprised, apparently having already forgotten that there was someone else with him in the room.

“But I do serve a purpose to you Doctor.” For the first time Randall made direct eye contact with a devious smile, he is not always feeling cooperative, but it seems that today Hannibal has caught him in a good mood.

“You have excellent perception Randall, you are also very unwell and I think I can help with that.”

“To what end?”

“Because I think we could be of great help to each other.”

“You didn’t help Will…”

“Will is not my patient, by request, you are. Would you mind if I ask you some questions?”

“Are you going to steal my thoughts and give them to Mason?”

“No Randall I won’t steal your thoughts, and nothing said in this room will go back to Mason either I promise, maybe I can help you make sense of what is happening in your mind? We can try and sort through your confusion.”

“Hmmmmmmm… ok you can try, but I’m not confused Doctor… about anything! If you take any of my thoughts I will know.”

“Do you often think that people steal your thoughts here Randall?”

“Yes.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because my thoughts are the truth! They want to give them to Mason so they get rewards! Then it’s bad Randall back on the rack!”

“I imagine you are feeling extremely angry at your situation, I imagine that your forced life here is unbearable and I am truly sorry for the ungracious acts that you suffer daily, but I think I can help you Randall.”

“You mean help you?”

“Why cant it be both?” Hannibal watched as Randall’s eyes looked up, becoming slightly glazed as though he were listening to a conversation that only he could hear. 

“Do you often hear the voices that are speaking to you right now?”

“Yes.”

“Where do they come from? Are they inside your head or through your ears?”

“What’s the difference? They say the same thing.”

“That is a very good point Randall, when you hear them do they talk directly to you, or about you?”

“To me.”

“And what do they say Randall? Are they the ones that tell you to harm yourself and the other people around you?”

“They tell me to harm my captors… the bad people… and everyone in this place other than my friend.”

“Your friend being Will?”

“Yep!”

“So they tell you to harm the other captives here? One may think that they have already suffered enough, wouldn’t you agree?”

“One might, I do not.” Randall stood from the bed and walked slowly over to Hannibal, leaning forward to make eye contact inches from the man’s face, Hannibal remained still and allowed the action feeling no immediate threat from Randall. After a few moments Randall returned to sitting on the edge of the bed, walking backwards slowly while never breaking eye contact with Hannibal.

“You… are… gonna… do… something… baaaaad…” 

“Why do you think I am going to do something bad Randall?”

“I don’t think it, I know it… I see you… I see you planning every second you are in this place…” Hannibal is seriously impressed with Randall’s accurate perception of his motives.

“I bet you would like to leave this place wouldn’t you Randall?”

“Why are you giving me an assessment when you already know my condition Doctor?”

“Would you prefer an honest conversation Randall?”

“I would.”

“What are my assurances that your silence is dependable?” 

“About the same as me being dependable with whatever you are going to ask me to do… because I think we both know me talking to Mason isn’t going to happen.”

“What if I told you there was a way out?”

“There is no way out…”

“Maybe not from the inside alone, and maybe not from the outside alone, but if the situations were to join forces then maybe there could be a way, would you like that?”

“How?”

“I need to know that we can trust each other first Randall, can I trust you?”

“I like your watch. I miss that, knowing the time, and the day, and the date… I’m not really sure why… I just liked the order, it was dependable and calming…” Hannibal didn’t hesitate to begin removing the watch when he saw Randall eyeing it up, the statement was neither a bribe nor a proposition, it was simply Randall’s split focus. They are currently having one conversation whilst Randall is probably having three more in his mind, one of which is his subconscious reminding him of something he misses that Hannibal has.

“Order is good for people with your condition, your fixation on those aspects of life is a healthy one, it’s known as routine order, something else that is impossible within these walls.” Hannibal held out the watch for Randall to take and noted the flash of appreciation in the troubled soul’s face, the act was selfless but he felt better for having done it. “One day very soon Randall I am going to leave you a bag in this room, in that bag will be your freedom… I will give you the power to take away your pain by providing the tools that you need for your own reckoning, you can choose to use them tools or walk away from them but the actions and the consequences of those actions have to be your choice alone.”

“I like having choices… I don’t get many anymore.”

“I will be speaking with Mason after our visit to inform him of my diagnosis, I will be giving him medication for you… if you want your freedom back I would advise against taking it.”

“See you soon Doctor.” Cordell was a little shocked when Hannibal left the room unscathed, but put it down to Randall being in a catatonic state. 

“So what is the verdict Doctor?”

“If Mason cares to speak with me for a moment I would be happy to pass along my diagnosis, after all I suppose he could be considered Randall’s guardian.” Hannibal could have easily told Cordell, but that wasn’t part of the plan, as Mason has been absent from the bar the previous two nights he guesses the aristocrat will be held up somewhere else in the house, somewhere he hadn’t had the chance to assess yet and Hannibal knows that Cordell wouldn’t pull Mason away from the ‘pressing matters’ a second time, he would more than likely choose to take Hannibal to him.

“I would be happy to pass along the information Doctor, I am sure I would be able to explain it just as well.”

“I’m sure you would, it is not my intention to insult or diminish your medical training but I also have a file that Mason requires, and my business is with him and him alone.”

“Please follow me then, but I cannot promise you that he will see you.” Reluctantly Cordell began to escort Hannibal to the infirmary, it isn’t his place to deny Mason’s guests especially not this one. 

“It is a very beautiful home, Mason has been blessed.”

“Mr Verger does enjoy the finer things in life, I would offer a tour but Mason is very invested in his privacy.”

“I imagine he is.”

“Hello Will it’s just me, the jury’s still out on whether or not you can hear me, but I’m trying anyway, if you can hear me then I suppose you are tired of me talking nonsense to you… but we have already discussed that you have to wake up in order to tell me to shut up.” Mason let the stress and worry of the past couple of day’s catch up with him as tears pricked his eye’s once more. “I just, I just want you to wake up now Will, the same person… Cordell says there may be some damage in there that you are trying to fight, and that could be why it’s taking you so long to come around… but I am here waiting for you.”

The room was mostly silent aside from the constant bleeps until there was another unwelcomed knock at the door that has Mason shouting before anticipating the imposition. “What!?” Cordell slipped inside the room leaving Hannibal waiting on the other side, in the brief second before the door closed Hannibal noted the sterile set up and quickly realised it was a make shift infirmary room and guesses the patient is none other than Will based on Randall’s concerns.

“Mason I apologise once again for disturbing you but Doctor Lecter has completed his assessment on Randall and insisted on speaking with you about his findings, he is also in possession of another file for you, I offered to take care of it but as I say he is pretty insistent… I can take care of it though if you wish?” Mason didn’t answer just left Cordell to do his checks on Will and walked out to speak with Hannibal.

“So what is your verdict Doctor Lecter? Would a bullet be a simpler option?” Mason gestured to the two chairs in the waiting room as they both sat down.

“My diagnosis mirrors my initial thought, Randall is showing clear signs of schizophrenia with bipolar tendencies and he needs treating with powerful anti-psychotics, especially as he is showing violent behavior, I would also recommend therapy if you have the means to provide that. I have brought a months supply of two medications that will aid in settling Randall’s mind, but they may take a short while to enter his system properly. The first is quetiapine, two are to be taken three times a day and the second is mirtazapine which should be taken once on an evening half an hour before bedtime. Randall will be extremely drowsy after taking this medication and a little confused, so I also suggest a couple of days away from patrons.”

“I must say Doctor Lecter you seem to take a genuine interest in some of the more troubled young men I have here, if I chose to forgive Randall’s latest transgressions and allow him to live I will ensure he begins the medication and the therapy he needs.”

“I take an interest in anyone that requires help Mason, maybe whatever transgressions Randall has committed would not have transpired if he were under the appropriate psychological care. I am sure Cordell mentioned I have also brought the second file you have requested, I intended to give it to you when I arrived but you seemed to be in a rush to return to your commitments which is understandable of course, we can discuss the details another time as your mind appears to be elsewhere right now.”

“Yes it is, tell me Doctor does your knowledge of what’s going on in a person’s head extend to a physically damaged one?” Mason flipped through the file with no real interest in that moment, usually the location of his second victim would be like Christmas morning, but Will is weighing heavier on his mind than he would like to admit.

“I am not a neurologist Mason, but I have a working knowledge of all a human’s anatomy, why do you ask?”

“Perhaps you could venture your opinion on another one of my troubled young men.”

“As I say Mason I am always happy to help a person in need.” Mason was unsure if he genuinely wanted Hannibal’s medical opinion of Will’s current state or if it was a ply to show Hannibal what ‘he’ along with Randall had caused to happen to the young agent, maybe it was a little of each? Regardless a second opinion couldn’t hurt.

Walking inside Hannibal’s face remained stoic, it was neither a shock or an upset to see Will this way it was more a curiosity of what the agent had suffered for Mason’s trumped up transgressions.

“You appear indifferent to the site before you Doctor.”

"Indifference is the lack of interest, concern, sympathy or empathy Mason, I hold all for a person in this predicament, it is in fact emotional indifference I display to this situation because I am not emotionally invested, might I ask what Will did to deserve this?”

“Will had trouble following certain rules… does this appear to be an injury that Will here can recover from or would pulling the plug be a kinder option?”

“Pulling the plug is merely the removal of his ventilator, it is my guess that Will would continue to breathe on his own upon removal of intubation, the only issue you would face with that act is a decreased oxygen intake… so you would move from possible brain damage to certain damage, but he would not die, not right away anyway.”

“So if he isn’t removed from the ventilator there will be no brain damage?” Hannibal heard the hope in the question and the dawning realisation hit, the extended brutal cruelty towards Will was not just Mason exuding dominance, he was in love with the young agent. 

“That would depend on a variety of factors, such as how hard the impact was, the blood loss, the rapidity of care after the event.” 

“Well maybe I should allow his medical care to continue for a while then, as you can imagine I don’t have the patience or the need to care for a vegetable, not when I can just throw him away and buy a new one anyway.” Hannibal moved to the screens fixed to the wall holding up the CT scans of Will’s head, the injury was in a crucial place, the impact sight mere millimetres away from a place that would have killed him instantly.

“Are these the most recent CT scans Cordell? I can-” Hannibal couldn’t finish his sentence before the machines started going crazy and Will’s entire body began to writhe in a violent vibration.

“What’s happening?? Is he going to be okay??” Mason begged panicked when Cordell moved him back and a slew of nurses entered the room, they seemingly hesitated as Hannibal gave out demands, requesting adrenalin and paddles but soon followed the Doctors orders as they set to work in an attempt to save Will’s life.

Once more the stags gruff urged Will forward, forcing himself to walk into the next room… 

This room is like a perfect magazine cover, but one consisting of only black and gray coloring as though Will had walked into a portrait photo. The mahogany chaise longue holds a deep fabric inlaid with a darker silk embroidered at the edges so delicately while the curtains are linen consisting of only two blocked color’s that Will can only perceive as dark, the kind that is untouched by hands, and devoid of dust, whilst a cursory look to the right shows him the almost hidden cords that are used to open and close them. There is no television, no bookshelf, no dining table, only two chairs arranged around the bespoke fireplace which is the only thing in color.

The stag walks and curls up beside one of the chairs placed by the fire in a way Will’s dogs would when he sat down, at first the chairs were empty, until a shimmer of mist began to emanate from one, it was diffuse and slightly out of focus, like a poorly taken photograph. It wasn't until the door slammed closed behind Will that it congealed into a form, a man with brilliant dark eyes, silver skin and the smile of a predator.

"Hello Will, please sit down."

“Where am I?”

“You are wherever you want to be.”

“Why don’t I feel anything… am I dead? But I cant be, I still feel like I'm here… why am I seeing you Hannibal?” 

“I don’t know the answer to that, but maybe I can help you figure it out?”

“I don’t know who you are, I mean I do, but I don’t know why I know you.” The more Will mulls it over, the more his brain becomes a spinning top, finding more questions than answers. The weird part is there's a familiarity to Hannibal that he just can't shake, not a memory per se, but echoes that call to his intuition.

“You saw freedom in me correct?”

“Yes, but why? I saw a freedom that was never offered, it didn’t exist outside my own mind… I know that now.”

“Do you remember what you craved to be free from?”

“I was trapped…”

“Do you remember where you were trapped Will?”

“No…” Where there should be memories there is a blank space, it was chaos inside Will’s head, he doesn’t know where he is and he doesn’t know how he got there?

“Tell me, what is the last thing you remember?”

“I woke up in the middle of the road, I followed the stag… I don’t remember how I got to the road.”

“You are on the precipice Will.”

“The precipice of what?”

“There is nothing I know that you don’t.”

“Am I dead? Is this eternity?” 

“Eternity is where you feel happiest Will, do you feel happy?”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“So maybe that means this is not your eternity, what does that mean?” 

“I don’t know… why don’t you tell me?”

“There is nothing I know that you don’t Will.” 

“You already said that! Why don’t I want to go back? Why am I running?” 

“There is nothing I know that you don’t Will.” 

“STOP SAYING THAT!!! I came here! I knew to come here why?” Will stands from the chair and begins moving around the room like there's a hurricane inside of him as the thoughts accelerate inside his head, his hands press against the wall as he moves, his breathing comes out in gasps when the edges of the already blackened room begins to fade away to nothing, Will falls to his knees in front of Hannibal seated in the chair as he tries to make everything slow to something his brain and body can cope with…

The realisation hits… 

“I’m dying…” Will's mind was beginning to fail, like an engine that turns over and over, never quite kicking into action, he couldn't formulate a thought.

“We’re losing him!! He’s going into defib attach the defibrillator!” The nurse screams as the machine begins to flatline.

“But now is not your time Will, you have to go back. Maybe that’s why you came here? But in order to do that you have to fight…” Hannibal’s voice was clear, his tone soft, it helped keep things calm. 

“I think I’m done fighting now… I don’t want to leave this place, nothing hurts here… I would rather that than whatever pain is waiting for me, I can’t go back, I won’t.”

“CLEAR!” Every machine screamed in alert as Hannibal increased is effort. “Charging… CLEAR!”

“If you cant remember what you are leaving behind then how do you know, truly know that you do not want to return to it?”

“I don’t remember the details… but I remember the pain.” Will could recall how his body jarred with each blow, how the pain seared throughout skin that took away every feeling of safety. The wielder put his all into each strike, his sinewy arm would recoil and snap back to his naked body, the impact that brought him here was delivered by an object rather than his own hand though, Will knows that.

“If you stay here there is neither pain nor happiness, you deserve more than that.”

“The pain is worse… it’s inhumane.”

“Maybe everything isn’t as it seems? Giving up now could elude you of something you are searching for so desperately.”

“Freedom… it’s been taken from me… but I can’t remember why.” Tears stream down Will’s cheeks and he screams at the very top of his lungs. His upper body and shoulders wrack with every sob that forces it’s way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as he gasps for breath, squeezing his eyes shut as if the sheer force could change the outcome, balling his hands into fists each time he throws his head back to let out a blood curdling scream in a failed attempt to rid the fear building up inside.

“Your freedom can only be taken if you allow it Will, there is always a way out.”

“I thought you were my way out… why did I think you were my way out??” 

“I never said I wasn’t.”

“You never said anything Hannibal because you are not real! You are my subconscious! It’s choosing you now for the same reason I saw freedom in you… what am I running from?”

“And why did your subconscious pick me?”

“WHAT AM I RUNNING FROM!?” There is a scream from deep within that forces its way from Will’s mouth, as if his terrified soul had unleashed a demon… all he feels is anger. 

“Why did your subconscious pick me?”

“I don’t know!? 

“CLEAR!” Will grasps his chest when pain makes it’s first appearance, a sharp jolt has his body giving way to collapse the rest of the way to the ground, rolling onto his back he feels weak, breathing is becoming too difficult. Black filled the edges of Will’s vision and the only thing he could hear was Hannibal’s voice.

“Help me…” Will isn’t sure why but he reached out his hand for Hannibal’s, the man didn’t move from the chair though.

“It’s ok Will… you don’t have to be afraid…” 

“No! No! No! No! I don’t want to go back! Please!! Noooo!” Pure terror surged through Will’s veins as everything began to fade away, feeling his eyes slip closed was like being held underwater, gasping for air as he sinks into the depths of the water but not being able to do a damn thing about it, maybe it would be better if he drowned… at least then the nightmare would be over.

“Ok we have a heartbeat! He’s waking up!” When Hannibal heard the nurses statement he stepped back allowing Cordell and the three nurses take over, there was nothing more he could do, or needed to do, he watched as a wide eyed Mason took a step forward towards the scene too distracted to notice Hannibal disappearing out of the infirmary door, unescorted.

Waking up for the first time is one of the most painful things Will has ever done, he tried to open his eyes again, but nothing happened. The panic set in when he realized that he couldn’t breathe, the thick tube down his throat forced air in whenever he tried to exhale and it was excruciating when he couldn’t match the pattern. The room filled with sporadic beeping as Will felt his chest seize, shock surging through his body when he tried to pull the tube from his throat but was stopped by multiple hands. Then the scatter of feet and anxious voices. Hands, so many hands grabbing, poking, prodding… unfamiliar voices began to tell him to calm down.

But it did nothing.

The obnoxious beeping slowed when the tube was withdrawn and Will could finally breathe on his own again, he heard voices but couldn't quite make out the words. Then as quick as he heard them there was a rush of fleeting footsteps before there was only two male voices and the constant annoying beeping once more. “Is he awake??”

“He is awake sir… Will can you here me?” The dull ache across the side of his head was the first thing that Will registered, he raised a hand to try and rub the soreness away and his fingers brushed the thick bandages and tubes protruding from beneath the fabric, he felt a soft hand grasp his own to move it away from the injured area. “Try not to move Will.” The voice came in echo’s, soothing and scary at the same time, where was he? 

The next thing that registered was his eye lid been pulled up unnecessarily hard followed by a blinding light being shone directly into his eye. Will’s blurred vision slowly came to focus as he looked around the room, the bleeps and whirring of machines only seemed to get louder… and then it all came back to him, the horrific scene that put him in this bed flashed before his eyes in a second, his entire body began to shake as if he were fighting to stay unconscious, away from Mason.

It could be that he is fighting to stay alive but the aristocrat guesses it’s the latter, Will’s mouth attempts to form words but instead its pitiful whimpers as he looks around and recognises Mason sitting beside him on the bed and gets closer to him, shushing him the best he could, knowing Will must be in so much pain. Will closed his eyes once more and silently cries, maybe he’s relived to be alive or maybe he’s devasted, Mason really not sure, but it doesn’t matter. The most important thing is that he is alive, and he will be okay in time.

It’s all that matters.


	7. Gracious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is finally on the road to recovery and Mason makes a confession that he later regrets...
> 
> A big thank you to everyone and anyone still following this story! Especially to the ones that have left a comment and a kudo it's really appreciated! I hope you enjoy the latest chapter and as always please let me know your thoughts...

Hannibal only hesitated for a moment before walking away from the infirmary room door, he doubts that his absence will be noticed by Mason or Cordell right now so he takes the opportunity to possess further details of the mansion. Stealthily he began to walk down the hallway paying attention to every small surrounding detail, and there was much to take in, Hannibal stood by the first stairway listening intently and heard voices up the stairs but there didn’t seem to be a fluent conversation by only two people, instead it seemed to be more a general chit chat between workers so he walked a little further down the long hallway.

The mansion is certainly one of those bought by rich people when they get paranoid about having too much money. It's like a fortress, the external alone was impenetrable for an uninvited guest and he guesses the same could be said for the inside. The tall iron gates that stood at the entrance outside had more security guards and gadgets than a military compound, perhaps behind those aspects and bricks Mason feels safe from the harm he bestows onto others? That’s what Hannibal guesses anyway because a decent man would not need this level of protection, he can't help but think that Mason has not only built a prison for the captives here, but for himself also.

Either way though, that is none of his concern.

The house was indeed Elizabethan as Hannibal had initially expected, the architectural layout alone matched a mansion of that time and it didn’t appear as though the décor had been altered much either since those times, excusing the exceptional care to maintain their structure. Warm wooden panels sat perfectly aligned along the walls of the hallways, ornate diamond encrusted chandeliers were suspended high up on the roof every few feet and shone warm spot lights down on the oil paintings depicting elderly bearded men in finely crafted suits that sat proudly on the wall. 

Reaching the second set of steps Hannibal once again listened for any sound of a voice but heard nothing, he may never get this chance again so there was no going back. The banister attached to the stairway was a finely crafted twirl of a branch tamed by a gifted carpenter's hand, it's grain flowed just as water would, colored in waves of beautiful woodland hues and Hannibal will always give credit where it is due, the house was truly exquisite. 

The stairway led up into yet another long galleried hallway with a rug spread out over the marble floor, under the chandeliers shine it was nature's art, the small evenly spaced stands held various expensive ornaments that he was sure were Scandinavian, produced by only high end designers. The only compromise to albeit arrogant comfort was the long mink rug on the floor, so clean it was hard to believe that anyone had ever stepped foot on it. 

Occasionally a maid or two would pass carrying linens or cleaning supplies and each would offer up a sweet albeit confused smile at the man, but still he saw no guards. The maids were used to seeing both guards and ushers in the hallways and each were identifiable by their clothing, both in fine black suits, but ushers in deep red shirts, whilst the guards wore a midnight blue. So a man walking around in a gray three piece did raise some concerns, regardless of any workers standing within the house they all knew the main rule, if you see anyone or anything suspicious then it must be reported, but they also knew the harshness of Mason’s wrath, and questioning an invited guest would invoke just that. 

There was an oval wooden door for every few steps Hannibal made but still no windows, not until he came to a turn in the hall, a cursory look out of the largest one displayed a balcony that grew from the walls of the mansion with a geometric style railing surrounding the floor of poured concrete. But it wasn't the balcony that pulled Hannibal’s attention, it was the garden it overlooked, the back one to be precise, one he hadn’t seen yet. 

The backyard is a miniature woodland of holly trees and native shrubs just like the front, each of them trimmed to perfection but the beauty stood between nothing less than a prison yard. The entire perimeter at the back of the house was patrolled by armed guards every few feet just as the front was, the only difference being was the front of the home had heavy iron gates that would only permit entrance once a patron’s pass was checked and the vehicles were searched.

Moving further into the house the lapse in security seemed to dim, Hannibal peered around the next corner and the maids and servants seemed to double, but every few feet stood armed guards at their apparent posts, and the ushers seemed to patrol the hallways on foot. Hannibal decided this was the point to turn back before he was seen but that plan was thwarted when once again a passing maid offered up a sweet smile but only made it a few steps before she seemed to think better of it and turned towards Hannibal. 

“Hello sir, can I help you with anything?” The young girl spoke kindly with a genuine desire to help, there was no real judgement or suspicion so there was no reason to get worried.

“Hello miss, yes I was just assisting Mason with something, but I seem to have gotten myself a little lost looking for the exit.” The woman offered up a small understanding laugh before walking the last few steps towards Hannibal.

“Yes the house is extremely large, I have been here a while now and I still find myself getting lost, if you would like to follow me I can show you the way out.”

“Thank you I would appreciate that.” The woman appeared to be genuinely sweet and not at all distressed by Hannibal’s presence meaning she was calm, calm is good because if she sees him as Mason’s concubine rather than a threat, she will be easy to make idle conversation with. That type of communication will often lead to little details that go a long way in planning, and finding things out like that can be done very easily with a few simple questions. “It’s a beautiful home, the architecture is exceptional, I have certainly been lost in worst places. I suppose a house this large provides many employment opportunities for people.”

“Yes I suppose it does, there are many people here that have worked within their roles for years, it certainly pays well… are you doing some work for Mason then? I don’t believe I have seen you around here before?”

“Yes I am, it’s only temporary though my contract is very short.”

“Oh ok, so are you one of the guards? If you don’t mind my prying of course.”

“No, I am actually more of a consultant.”

“Sorry I just assumed you were an off duty guard or something, maybe here for an interview as some of them only work temporarily.”

“It can’t be all good pay then if so many leave.” Hannibal smirked slightly with purpose, playing off his statement as a joke, why would they be temporary? 

“Some of the guards come from an external company I think, and-” 

“Excuse me!” Both Hannibal and the maid turned swiftly when a stern voice came from the end of the hallway, a guard made a brisk walk towards the two and without even looking Hannibal noticed a drop in the young girls cheery demeanor. “I’m sorry sir but may I enquire as to who you are and why you are in this part of the house?” The maid responded before Hannibal could but he wished she hadn’t, he didn’t want to be responsible for any reprimanding of an innocent person, but guesses his conversation with her already did that.

“This gentleman has been assisting Mr Verger with something and he got lost trying to find his way to the exit, I was just going to escort him to-” 

“Do you not have work to be doing!?”

“Yes sir, sorry sir.”

“Then get to it.” Without another word the young maid turned quickly and walked down the hallway as the guard turned to Hannibal with a quizzical look, obviously unsure of the story he had been given by the young girl. “You should be careful walking around this place unescorted you know, Mr Verger is extremely fond of his privacy.”

“I do apologise, as the young lady explained I got myself a little lost.”

“Yes I’m sure, do you have a club member’s pass? Or a staff pass?”

“I do.” Hannibal presented the temporary pass to the guard who rudely snatched it from between his fingers to get a closer look as though he anticipated it being a fake. “Name?”

“Hannibal Lecter.” 

“Ok please follow me, if you get lost in the future then please find someone to escort you out rather than just wandering the halls.” 

“Of course, my apologies.” 

“Can I enquire as to what you were speaking with the maid about?”

“I was complementing the architecture.”

“Ok, please follow me.” Hannibal followed the guard who quickly lead him out of the front door and ensured he got in his car and left before turning to find Mason, it was the rules to check with him when any person without permission was found an area they shouldn’t be in. As Hannibal drove it became apparent that the ushers and guards on the inside of the home worked for Mason permanently and knew every soarded detail of what went on inside those walls, whereas the guards outside were sent by an external company and were more than likely different people most nights and probably knew very little about the details by design.

That’s a way in… 

Will understands why his peaceful ending was taken away from him now, he’s not dead, the world couldn’t even offer him that solace. Waking up feels hard and confusing, there is more pain than Will ever thought possible both physically and mentally and it’s a dual exertion that he isn’t sure he can deal with. “Will?” The voice sounds familiar but it takes a few seconds until he truly remembers exactly who it belongs to, Will winced when he felt Mason stroke his face, even the lightness of his touch is painful, but the aversion to it is worse.

“Can you hear me?” Mason’s voice seemed concerned when he sat beside him on the bed, he cupped both Will’s cheeks in a desperate attempt to make eye contact, but Will couldn’t focus on anything right now, nor could he talk, his throat was dry and he began to wonder exactly how long he had been out.

Mason began to panic when Will didn’t focus, there didn’t appear to be any real recognition and the speech was non-existent, he asked again but still there didn’t seem to be an acknowledgment of his words. In the confusion Will was more inclined to figure out his surroundings, it didn’t look like Mason’s room or anywhere else he had seen in the house, in actual fact it appeared to be a medical room… was he in hospital? 

The seemingly hospital room walls are devoid of beauty, they are a simple cream, not peeling or dirty, just cream. There is no decoration at all save the limp curtain that isn’t pulled across used to separate his bed from the two others in there, the room has an undertone of bleach and the floor is simply gray. There are stands for intravenous drips and monitors and placed beside the door are dispensers for rubber gloves and hand sanitizer, for a second there is hope, hope that he is somewhere to get help but that thread he clings to vanishes when a cursory look out of the window shows the familiar grounds of the mansion.

Cordell is forced to pull Mason back slightly, his grasp on Will’s face not allowing him to conduct the vital checks that are needed, after another gentle push backwards Mason moves back and a bright light is shone in Will’s eyes followed by Cordell’s own, forcing eye contact inches from his face. 

“Do you know where you are Will?”

“Yes… I need to sit up.” Will’s entire body ached from the vertical position and he guesses he has been in it for a while, his attempt to sit up is thwarted by a less than gentle push from the burley butler though who continued his invasive checks. 

The relief in Mason was instant, Will was not only talking but seemingly moving with no issue.

“Will you almost died, technically you did for a short while, you will fully recover but that will take a little time, for now you need to rest because you have stitches that could rupture if you move and you may bleed out again, so please just try to relax. I just need to do a few tests, so answer as best you can please.” Will grumbled slightly but had no other choice than to allow Cordell to check his blood pressure and breathing as well as some basic counting, spelling, and general questions to rule out any brain damage from oxygen deprivation or the injury itself.

“Ok everything seems fine here Mason, I will prescribe some mild pain relief and just a few days light rest and he should be absolutely fine.” 

“We will skip the painkillers thank you Cordell, maybe the pain will help in teaching him the correct behavior in future.”

“Of course sir, I will be right outside if you need anything.” The silence in the room became deafening when Cordell left the room, Will didn’t want to speak and Mason couldn’t find the right words, so he was glad when Will eventually broke the ice.

“I’m thirsty.” Mason didn’t hesitate to pour a cup of water and instantly tilted it towards Will’s lips so he could drink with ease, but the instant it was placed back on the stand the heavy silence settled over them once more, thicker than the usual uneasy tension that sat in the atmosphere during their waking hours together. Unsettled eyes glanced around unceremoniously as both tried to avoid catching the others gaze, Mason shifted from the side of the bed uncomfortably, choosing to pace the room instead as he tried desperately to find the right words. 

“You probably feel as though you know me by now. But you don’t know, not really. Maybe I will tell you things about me later down the line, things that nobody else knows just to show you that I’ve made mistakes too, that I can get angry, feel vengeful and hate. Maybe if I show you my own darkness you will understand that there are profound reasons why I am the way I am… but it’s not my fault. I haven’t been fully awake since childhood and that’s over twenty years of sleeping, it’s plenty of time to make mistakes and have regrets and I still make errors in fact, but I’m learning to reduce them bit by bit Will, with you anyway.” Mason moves to sit back on the bed, as though his words could be mistaken for an apology, Will continues to stare up at the ceiling completely defeated, he doesn’t understand in what way Mason has been trying to be better with him?

Apology or not, there was something in those words, a pain behind them that triggered Will’s god given empathetic side, it was only an air of the feeling but it was there. Will watched discreetly, he watched Mason's eyes as he spoke and knew the anger he gave out was nothing more than a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades scared for his life, lonely, desperate. Will breathed in real slow, what if nothing ever blew up? What if there were no consequences? That means he is stuck here for life with this monster. 

Emotional pain has a biological purpose, to teach, to educate people away from unhealthy patterns and relationships, most people have a choice to run from things like that, but he doesn’t. Will has been pushing back against this pain for so long now, medicating with alcohol and Randall’s friendship, yet it returns to overwhelming levels in his weaker moments, devastating his mind. In that moment the realisation hits, he is doomed to keep repeating this pattern of physical and psychological abuse and there isn’t a damn thing he can do about it! Why didn’t he try harder to stay unconscious? To die?

“Yes Mason.” Will answers, he could still feel Mason holding his hand, occasionally stroking his face light enough that his fingers could be mistaken for feathers as he wipes away the tears that are making a steady stream down his face, and Will knows that he sees guilt in Mason’s eyes, but still it made no difference. The man still sounds so far away, his voice is more of an echo, through defeat or drugs Will isn’t sure but Mason continues to stroke his face telling him to breathe, telling him its ok, but it’s not. 

“It’s ok Will just rest, you don’t need to worry about anything, it’s all going to be ok now.”

Mason spent the next few days in the infirmary room with Will, he would ramble on about himself as usual or the room would be filled with an uncomfortable silence, there was never any in between. Will would fake sleep in order to gain even an hour of peace but even that was disturbed with the unwanted touch from the man’s creeping fingers. Mason’s constant presence seemed to buzz around Will like a fly that he could never quite swat. Every word, every movement, even the biological breathing Mason performed seemed to infuriate him to no end, the only peace that could be had was at night when Mason would retire to his own room, for his own bed, even then Will was quite surprised the aristocrat hadn’t told him to scoot over in the small bed.

It was on the forth night Will was beginning to feel better, the pain was subsiding and he was able to sleep with some relative comfort, but one small clicking sound in the middle of the night and his eyes were open, waking to the sound of breathing that isn't his own. Listening intently a slight tremble begins when he hears the feet tapping closer against the floor, after so long of this life every action is automatic, reflexive, efficient. Will’s heart pounds as if a hypodermic needle of adrenaline has been emptied into his carotid and he strains into the utter darkness until a lamp is flipped on and Cordell’s face comes into view, only then does his breathing rate begin to steady.

“My apologies Will I didn’t mean to wake you, I just need to give your vitals a quick check and make sure the drugs are having no ill effect on you, we wouldn’t want you damaged for Mason now would we?” Language that dehumanises others is a first step to the removal of human rights, it was a tactic Cordell often used with the captives here, those like him who can dehumanise others so easily have lost an internal battle with themselves, because only one without empathy can derive pleasure from cruelty. They have let their evil wolf take over for the sickly gains of ego and at the behest of fear and thus are inches closer to the embodiment of evil. Cordell offered up no other explanation he just simply began jotting down the information from the screen of each machine and then roughly checked Will’s blood pressure without saying another word.

“What time is it?”

“It’s three AM.”

“When you say ill effects, what exactly do you mean by that? Like what could happen if there were any? And would they have occurred while I was unconscious?” Will can’t get his ‘visit’ to what he perceived as the afterlife out of his mind and although he knows nobody would ever believe him, he knows what he saw was real and not a dream.

“Well there can be allergic reactions, or certain drugs may interact with each other negatively and cause a rise or dip in blood pressure, things like that.” Cordell answered Will’s questions as if he had no right to know the answers, like a Doctor speaking to the child rather than a parent, there was no care or concern in his bedside manor not that Will wanted any from the man, he just wanted control of his own body again.

“So, it wouldn’t cause things such as… I don’t know like hallucinations. Seeing things? Hearing things?”

“No, it would be extremely rare for an occurrence like that to take place, have you been seeing things?”

“No, I was just… well, urm, it doesn’t matter forget I said anything.”

“Ok, you should be able to leave in the morning but for now get some rest ok? I suspect you are going to need it! I am sure you are eager to get back to work, I am also sure you are looking forward to seeing Randall... if he is still breathing by then of course.” Callous is when a person steps away from their love, their empathy, and emotional self, to a place of pure evil. Then they make errors, a terrible error that can lead them down the wrong path, well this wasn’t a wrong path taken by Cordell, he basked in the path he had chosen for his own selfish gain, uncaring of the pain felt by the others here, in fact he caused most of it.

The next morning Will wakes as if it's an emergency, as if sleeping had become a dangerous thing, his heart beats fast and there is a buzzing in his brain that is as a flat battery, but it isn’t an emergency he is waking to its his life. The only slight rise in dread is the fact that he is going back with Mason today, there is need to rest that has been growing in Will’s bones and the muscles that have always wanted to run for so long now but instead they are asking so very powerfully not to move, they like him just want to curl into a ball and never move again. There is a weary feeling that cannot be politely assuaged or that will simply evaporate with the rise of sun, there is just nothing to stem this constant pain and anxiety.

Sitting up in the bed Will simply waits, Mason would be there soon to ‘take him home’ as Cordell put it, but there is nothing but dread for what is coming, he would describe the dread as a slowly approaching train, like any good nightmare it doesn't matter where you run because it keeps on coming just the same. As time runs out your feet become heavier until they are set in concrete on the tracks and then all you can do is wait to be destroyed, wait to be nothing more than blood and bone fragments and that’s exactly what Will feels he is waiting for.

Cordell enters to remove the drips with his usual silent and aggressive bedside manor, the only time a word is uttered is when Mason enters with a collar and leash in hand as though he is picking up an animal from the vet. Will really doesn’t know why he is shocked to see those items because that is in fact the case, he is an animal to Mason, well property anyway as most animals are treated better than he is, still Will sits as they are attached and he is pulled from the bed.

“Ok Mason, he still needs a few days of light duties and rest, but other than that he will be absolutely fine.”

“Thank you Cordell, Will do you have something to say to Cordell after he has spent days looking after you?”

“Thank you Cordell.”

“Of course Will.”

Mason didn’t say a word as he pulled Will back to the bedroom, still it was quite early and the man usually revels in his sleep, so Will chalked the silence down to tiredness. The speed of the walk ached his legs, Mason had a way of walking that made him seem perpetually in a hurry, his steps weren't long but they were rapid, like a speed walker without that odd twisting motion they make. The pain made it difficult to keep up, especially when he was made to crawl, Will was only grateful for the fact he was allowed to walk in this instant, after so long walking barefoot though Will’s feet have toughened, the skin that was once so soft and tender has more resistance to the roughness of the ground.

When Will was guided to the bed he was fairly sure what was coming next, it had been days since Mason had his needs attended to so he braced himself for the latest assault that didn’t come, instead he was tucked beneath the silk sheets and told to rest.

“I have many things to do today, I am playing catch up after having spent all my time with you over the past few days so I suggest you take this opportunity to catch up on your rest, I am not always feeling this kind so I recommend that you take advantage of that, I will be back this afternoon and I expect to find you where I left you, is that understood Will?”

“Yes Mason.” Falling asleep when Mason left the room wasn’t difficult, the need for sleep was overwhelming, but the fact that Mason wouldn’t be around whilst he did, made for an even more comfortable rest.

Will doesn’t feel as though he had slept long when Mason lightly shakes his shoulder though, somehow being in the man’s bed feels more uncomfortable than sleeping on the dog bed it always had, the silk sheets and heat from Mason’s creeping fingers at night felt acidic against Will’s skin, each time he desperately wanted to pull away from the touch of each but never dared to, it’s an unwanted invasion. 

“Come on Will, its past supper time.” Will bolts upright and winces when he feels the light shake of his shoulder, every part of him hurts, a vivid image invades his mind as he remembers how violently his body had shook and convulsed with the electricity coursing through his entire body, how could he have overslept again!? The last penance for that action was a lashing so what punishment will it be this time?

“Hey its ok Will, I let you sleep for a while today, I have only just got back from catching up on my work and you should keep that in mind the next time you decide to open your mouth in a disrespectful tone! But we have supper soon so it’s time to get up.” Mason lays Will back down and tells him to take a few minutes but remains seated on the bed beside him with his hand in the soft brown locks, Mason really seemed to like his hair, he is always touching or stroking it and the sensation is just as sickly. 

“Will, I… I’m, how are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

“I-I’m sorry I got a little too rough with you.” Mason pulled back his hand and looked away when he whispered the words, these days the word sorry is so meaningless and overused. Saying sorry doesn't fix the pain Mason has caused, sorry is just a word and for Mason to say it to Will for what he had done is like covering a bullet hole with a band-aid and expecting everything to be fixed, but in honesty Will really does think that Mason believes that word has made everything right.

Will can truly say he doesn't hate anyone, he didn’t anyway, not until now. Even in a person’s betrayal he lacks the necessary mechanism to turn it into hatred, instead his mind seeks to understand the perpetrators behavior from a compassionate point of view. Why did they do it? What is it about them that lead them to such a bad decision? Will didn't keep the folks around that hurt him over and over of course as failing to learn even a little from each life lesson it isn't a good idea, but understanding them as opposed to hating them offered up a small feeling of peace. 

However, the greatest predictor of future behavior is past behavior and Mason’s was never going to change, not that it would matter if it did, the man could treat him like a god and Will would still be revulsed by him. So now hatred is all that Will has left, he lets it consume him because that is the only emotion he is able to feel, his body lost its strength long ago, his mind has now become shattered, and the rest of him quickly followed suit. There isn't any part of him that feels anything else now other than hatred and pain, and without that anger he would be nothing, feel nothing, so why eat? Why sleep? Why continue to breathe? Why? Because he has the hate that’s why, it is the fuel that keeps Will’s heart pumping and his brain ticking over. 

It is also the feeling that will free him from his shackles because revenge is coming, and it's coming real soon.

“Please take a shower, put on your shorts and meet me in the dining hall ok?"

“Yes Mason.” Did he just say please? Will is confused as to why is Mason is letting him take a few minutes to wake up, but that issue takes a backstep when he starts to climb out of the bed and he realised the full extent of his pain, Will knew he had permission to walk as Mason hadn’t told him to crawl, but crawling it was as Will didn’t have the strength to walk.

Will strips down out of his shorts when Mason left the bedroom and crawled to the on suite bathroom, stepping into the shower was equally painful, his toes flinched as they touched the chilled ceramic floor. Will’s mind was in shreds as he turned the dial releasing thousands of lukewarm drops turning the water on high he let it beat over his head darkening his hair before it trickled down the battered and bruised back, there wasn’t an inch of Will’s body that wasn’t covered in darkened spots. 

Closing his eyes to the water the heat soaks into his skin as he braced his forearms against the cool tiles of the wall, it takes every bit of remaining strength to stay standing when his weak legs threaten to buckle. Will’s eyes fell closed over and over, each time showing the images of torture like photographs... Though the heat brings the slightest feel of calm, the shower is just another function of his regimented day, usually a necessity before his next shift, Will questions if he would be working that evening because he doesn’t think his body is capable of it.

Re-dressing in the shorts Mason had left out Will crawled into the dining room but it’s as though his limbs don’t really belong to him anymore and each movement forward is a negotiation rather than an order. Everything hurts now. Every damn thing. Will winces as he crosses the marble floor, the ache is a dull, as if some torturer is standing right behind hammering a stake into every muscle, the strikes radiating pain in a way that shatters his brain, or at least that's what it feels like. All the servants that Will passes sees is his crawling form on the ground, they walk around him without acknowledgment or judging stares, but he guesses that’s because they are used to it now, making it to the dining hall Will stills in the doorway hearing Mason’s next order.

“You don’t have to crawl Will, come sit down at the table and eat.” Why he hasn’t been ushered to the usual corner to await his bowls being deposited in front of him is an unfamiliar and concerning concept to Will, for all he knew this could be another one of Masons cruel tests.

“Permission to speak Mason?” 

“You have permission Will.”

“Mason I can’t stand up my body really hurts, I’m sorry.” Will hears more than feels the tears begin in his own voice when Mason sighs loudly, but he does not dare to look up as Will is unsure if he has just violated an order. Instead of becoming angry though Mason moves to him and leans down to help him the rest of the way into the chair and after an accidental glance at him, Will is sure he sees a flash of guilt and remorse.

Mason sat opposite Will in the aristocratic cutting lines of a great tailor and he quickly realised it was one of the suits Mason usually wears when he attends the club downstairs so yes, it looks like he would be working this evening, in one way or another anyway.

The chef entered seconds after they were seated and Will recognised him as one that serves when Cordell was not present, the man looked like he had given up on life, his eyes had a strange sunken look and were threaded with scarlet so densely that they appeared pink, his cheeks glowed under broken veins and his actions were slow, clumsy as he pushed the cart over to Mason and ritually served him first before depositing an actual plate in front of Will who distantly wondered if the chef was just another one of Mason’s captives. This was the first time Will had been given a plate and cutlery instead of being required to eat on the floor from ‘his’ bowls, and guesses the aristocrats hidden remorse has a lot to do with that.

“Eat your food please Will.” 

“Yes Mason.” Will picked up the fork and began eating dinner like he thought it was poisoned. Each forkful was tinier than you would feed a baby and even then he nibbled at it, pausing before taking any more. 

This was an option he never had eating with nothing but his mouth.

“Papa was impossible to take out for dinner anywhere other than his own home you know, whatever he tasted elsewhere he knew how they could have improved it and assumed the chefs were lazy and inept. So eventually we gave up trying. Instead, even on his birthday, we would sit at this very table at the designated time and then wait whilst he went to the kitchen to ‘supervise’ even his own chefs, but still, at least then we could all enjoy the meal… what about you Will, did you have any favorite places to eat?”

“No Mason. I liked to eat at home.” Every time Will responded to Mason it was robotic, it didn’t matter if he were offering up a simple ‘yes Mason ‘no Mason’ or a slight sentence, the words were always muttered in a monotone of indifference. Emotional indifference itself isn't evil, there are times we need it as a valid form of defence from emotional abuse both in personal relationships or in dealing with others who intend to con, mislead or dominate through power. Emotional indifference is thus at times an acceptable response to protect one’s self and Will used that small shield to protect his inner self, it was something Mason could never touch and taint.

“So what was your favorite meal to make at home?”

“It depended how hungry I was.” 

“I’M TRYING HERE!!” Will startled when Mason slammed his curled up fist against the wood of the table hard, bouncing the cutlery a good few inches from the table. The shouted statement was a violence in the air, Mason didn't just raise his voice, every muscle tensed as the holler reverberated in Will’s ears like a clap of thunder. It was a roar of pure anger that made him jump like a scared rabbit, and Will thinks the man liked that, it was as though his fear made Mason feel mighty powerful. 

After a few moments Mason took a deep breath and exhaled in an attempt to calm himself, straightening himself up they ate in silence after that, until the servants removed the empty plates and Mason spoke again, it had been obvious to Will that the man’s attempt at polite conversation was from guilt, but he also believed that Mason was attempting to be engaging.

“You will not be working this evening Will, but you are going to be accompanying me downstairs… I have a meeting with the good Doctor friend of yours so I am sure I can allow you to have a drink with Randall during that time… as I have been informed he is quite eager to see you.” Will hadn’t forgotten about Randall, but he would never dare ask Mason about him, there has been a constant worry that his friend had suffered a similar assault as himself after Cordell’s comment so maybe he was just scared to ask about Randall’s wellbeing from fear of the answer. 

“I would also recommend that you offer up a thank you to Doctor Lecter, especially as he had such a large hand in saving your life.” Will looked up at the comment, for the first time he was somewhat intrigued as to what Mason had to say, and that didn’t go unnoticed or unfelt by the aristocrat. Hannibal had helped to save his life? How? So was he there when he was unconscious? Maybe that would explain why he saw and heard the man in his venture to wherever he went?

“Yes Mason.” Will stands obediently when Mason reattaches the collar and leash, and the walk to the bar was just as nerve wracking as the first hundred times he had done it, the need for flight was always present but he handled it with nothing less than grace though he really wasn’t sure how, people always hypothesize how they would react in a certain situation but Will guess’s there is merit in you don’t truly know until you are there. The room was filled with its usual crowd of elites and their slaves, most seated on the laps of much older men in the comfortable lounge chairs or appearing from the private rooms in back, whereas the stools at the bar stood mostly empty aside from Hannibal who sat in the first stool, and Randall who sat talking to Franklyn five seats away. 

Will wanted to walk over to his friend, he wanted to avoid any interaction with Hannibal because it usually lead to one of Mason’s jealous rampage, but most of all he just didn’t want to be around Hannibal, he was just the same as his captor. The Doctor was here because Mason had stolen a man he owned, the humiliating meeting clarified that but it didn’t appear as though he had a choice in the matter when Mason pulled him straight over to Hannibal who held his usual glass of exquisite wine. Mason sat on the stool beside him and pulled Will to stand between them both with an expectant expression, every act by the cruel man was calculated to make his lesser feel beyond uncomfortable, and after only a few seconds of watching a nervous Will attempt to give an unnecessary thank you Hannibal spoke unwilling to watch the humiliation play out. 

“Good evening Mason, hello Will, how are you feeling?” Will’s gaze remained firmly on the ground when he spoke quietly.

“I’m fine thank you.”

“Good evening Doctor Lecter thank you for accepting my invitation! Before we get into our business my pet here has something he would like to say to you! Go ahead Will.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Hannibal couldn’t get a word in before Mason back handed Will across the back of the head, seemingly unhappy with Will’s extension of a thank you.

“Now, now Will, lets say it like we mean it ok?” Will is unsure how he is supposed to do that when he wasn’t grateful that his life had been saved, but from fear of any more wrath he raised his eye line to Hannibal’s own and offered up another thank you with more of a vocal presence this time.

“There is no thank you necessary Will, I am just glad you are ok.” Will’s gaze soon returned to the ground as he shifted uncomfortably waiting until Mason offered up a slight push and a flick of the wrist in signalling it was time for him to leave, it was an act of silent permission to go and sit with Randall.

Franklyn had already placed a drink on the bar for Will before the hug from Randall was even offered up, he stayed long enough to greet the young agent and acquire to his physical wellbeing before moving to the club floor to collect glasses and takes orders for any food and drink for the elites that were too lazy to come to the bar. Franklyn only took the orders of the men without slaves because if they were present they would be sent to place orders instead.

“It’s good to see you alive…” Randall could remember very little about what happened the day of the fight, he cant remember much of what happened when he came down from highs of a psychotic break, he can however remember winding Mason up to the point he assaulted Will, and badly. That was never his intention and the fact his actions caused the injury has had him wracked with guilt for days, especially when Cordell repeatedly told him there was a slim chance Will would survive, and if he died it would be Randall’s fault.

“I wish I could say it’s good to be alive Randall… how are you doing? I had a bad feeling after a few comments from Cordell and Mason.”

“You know me I can survive anything! But Will I owe you an apology for what happened… I know my outburst only made things worse for you, I know what happened was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault Randall, just like it wasn’t my fault… it’s Mason and nobody else.”

“So were cool?”

“Of course we are cool.”

“Did he tell you about my meeting with Hannibal?”

“No? What meeting?”

“Mason apparently asked him to give me an assessment after my latest attack… they gave me medication and everything.” Randall had been in a good mood since Hannibal’s visit, but he hadn’t said a word to anyone about what was said, and he didn’t intend to either, even after both Mason and Cordell had grilled him, he simply stated it was a normal assessment.

“Really? And how are you feeling on the medication?”

“I’m not taking it! Cordell forced them down my throat the first few days but then I started acting like I wanted to take them so he was dumb enough to give me the bottle.” After Hannibal’s advice about the medication Cordell had pretty much sat on him to get it down his throat but now he has tricked the burley butler into thinking he wants them so he has them in his room.

“Randall don’t take this the wrong way but, maybe you should take them? They could help take the edge off everything?”

“They do, I used to take them before coming here but obviously they weren’t going to keep giving me them, besides Hannibal tol- ooops! Shhhhhhhh!”

“Hannibal told you what Randall?”

“I’m not allowed to tell anyone it’s a secret!”

“Randall you cant keep secrets from Mason, especially ones given to you by Hannibal! You do know that he also owns someone like us don’t you and that’s why he has business with Mason? What if they are working together just to try and trap you?” Will didn’t push Randall to divulge the secret because this could just be Randall’s scattered mind believing there is a secret when there isn’t, but regardless he found it prudent to warn his friend.

“I think everything will be ok soon Will don’t worry.”

“Just be careful ok?”

“I will don’t worry!”

“So Doctor Lecter, I never got a chance to thank you for your part in saving my pets life… you seemed to disappear out of the door so very quickly.” 

“There wasn’t much else I could have assisted with Mason, Cordell seemed more than capable of taking over. Also, as I stated there is no need for a thank you, I only did what any other Doctor would have done.”

“Well I appreciate your help regardless, I do hope that you found your way out with no issues.”

“I got a little turned around, but your staff were more than helpful with that.”

“Yes I was informed that you needed a little help finding your way out… from the second floor apparently, but no matter it is a big house, luckily I have security that covers every inch both inside and out, because for a moment there I was a little worried that you were trying to bypass our deal and find a short cut instead.”

“Of course not Mason, there would be no reason for me to do that would there? Afterall you are a man of your word correct?”

“I am Doctor Lecter, I am! Lets just hope that you are also…”

“So tell me Mason, how has Randall been? It would appear that you have decided against harming him so does that also mean that you have decided to start him on the medication?”

“I instructed Cordell to start him on the tablets that you prescribed, there was some… resistance the first few days but now he requests them and seems to be doing well, as I stated previously Randall is quite popular with some of the men here so I found it prudent to give him one last chance… so I guess we will just have to keep a close eye on his behavior from here on out. I must reiterate what I said previously, you are good with the more troubled young men in here, Randall has certainly seemed much calmer since your visit and had nothing but good things to say, he spoke very highly of you.”

“That is good to hear.”

“I am sure it is, I may have to book him another session with you if it keeps him calm.” Mason always spoke in riddles so figuring out his true line of intent was sometimes difficult, even for Hannibal, maybe it was because the man had done it for most of his life? Regardless Hannibal truly suspects the hostility has nothing to do with his conversation with Randall but is indeed about his unescorted venture down the halls, Mason was tactful, not intelligent. 

“As I stated Mason I am always happy to help a person in need, speaking of which your next file is taking slightly longer than I anticipated but I should have it in the next day or so.”

“I see no problem in that Doctor, after all it’s not like I can complain about the speed of the others you have brought to me.” 

“Ok, was there anything else that you wished to speak to me about?”

“No Doctor Lecter I think that will be all for today.”

“Ok well I will let you get on with your evening then, but I am sure we will speak again soon.”

“I’m certain of it, good evening Doctor.” As always Hannibal left his tip on the bar and left the building having no interest in watching the announced stage show. 

“Well, that’s me!” Randall fained a mocking excitement when his name was called by the announcer, he offered up one more hug to Will before walking behind the stage to prepare for his stage show, whilst Franklyn was about to enquire about Will’s wellbeing but promptly stopped when Mason summoned him. 

Mason sips his drink and settles down in one of the lounge chairs and gestures for Will to climb on his lap once he is comfortable. Two of Mason’s closest friends sat in the second two chairs placed close to each other, one held a slave in his lap, while the other had his on a leash knelt beside the chair. Both captives looked as emotionally drained as Will did, the dark atmosphere matched the blackened souls of most within the room and it was daunting, daunting knowing this would most likely be the main sight for the remainder of their lives.

Mason leant back in his chair and looked out over the club as he speaks to his equals. It’s regular night and Mason admits to one of the men that he’s glad he came out tonight, apparently he needed a night to destress after all the trauma ‘he’ had been through over the past week. 

The already murky atmosphere of the club dimmed further meaning the stage show was about to start, the curtains parted and the house fell silent, even the smoke seemed to rise up out of the way in anticipation of the dance. Will’s eyes navigated away from the stage and noticed hands dropping below belt lines, men pushing slaves underneath tables or grinding against the ones in their laps, there was no shame here, Will could actually feel the sexual tension in the air. 

The lights slowly came up on the stage followed by a barrage of wolf whistles as Randall began to move, swinging around the pole. From the low down seats of the club Randall looks like he's floating more than anything, like he twirls without effort in a serenity the audience craves. With each swaying movement of his hips, with each alluring twist of his body Randall told a story just like all the other captives here. Their stories were one of the same, entrapment, no one really knew of the horrors they endured here, not really, as not one person knew the true extent of Mason’s cruelty that went beyond the sexual assaults, all they knew was this was not their desired path in life. All the crowd saw was what they wanted to see, Will saw so much more though, as well as the sarcasm in Randall’s movements every time he was up on that stage.

Will shifted his gaze every few moments to the least uncomfortable sight in the club as he listened to Mason and his two equals ramble on about petty problems, their Porsche came in the wrong color, or their Rolex wasn’t quite as diamond encrusted as it should be, and Will doesn’t think he has ever been more bored. There is a brief second he catches a glimpse of one of the man’s slave knelt between his legs and the boy looks more fragile than the glass ballerina, Will thinks if he were even held too hard his limbs might just snap. 

The boy, and that is exactly what Will calls him because he doesn’t look any older than seventeen at a push sits so defeated, it's hard to get his attention under than mop of brown hair that dominates his narrow face, there are eyes in there somewhere but Will can barely see them. The boy holds himself like he's trying to take up even less space than he already does and his skin looks at least a size too small, only exaggerating his skinniness, he just looks so lost, for a split second the two stared back at each other until he finally dropped his gaze, a gentle flush of humiliated pink had arisen in the boy’s cheeks that made him look even more vulnerable.

So much cruelty in one place by people that presumed themselves to be better than everyone with a bank balance lower than a few million, being rich it was simple to bestow this cruelty, first offer the deputies money with some power mixed in, that pretty much worked every time. They sold their morals, ignored their moral compasses for such low prices and the price was falling every day. Second, keep the little people distracted with greed and vanity before ripping their life away to become the products that would make the elites happy again.

Hours passed with idle conversation as the drinks flowed, Mason swirled his fifth bourbon in his glass, listening to the chinking of the ice cubes, breathing in a fragrance that only years in an oak barrel can achieve, he would just watch its gentle hypnotizing vortex. Mason watched, seemingly entranced as the cubes bounce back up remaining mostly submerged like mini icebergs. Wrapping his long fingers around the glass he raised to sip, the spirit only adding to Mason’s already present intoxication. When the glass was finished Will was slightly pushed in a signal it was time to stand, Mason was drunk and swaying, the club was closing, it was time for bed.

“Well gentlemen thank you for the pleasure of your company this evening but it is time for me to take my leave!” Mason placed a firm arm around Will’s shoulders that to any onlooker could be confused as a loving gesture, but it wasn’t, it was simply to ground his faltering steps. Will had to practically carry Mason up the stairs as he sang jolty songs he had never even heard of, when the inebriated aristocrat collapsed down on the bed he pulled Will with him, grinding against him for a moment before sitting back up, pulling Will to sit beside him.

Mason cups Will’s cheeks and moves his head closer, bringing their foreheads to rest together. Will sits frozen, from both fear and revulsion as Mason closed his eyes, his breath shaking. "I don’t want to do this anymore… I don’t want it to be like this." Mason slurs, barely more than a whisper, Will doesn’t speak just gets nervous for the man’s next words, keeping their foreheads together Mason speaks between the slurs, using his grip on Will’s cheeks to steady himself as his body slightly sways.

“I know what I am, and I know what I’ve done Will but I choose you, I know I have hurt you several times, I-I just feel so incomplete without you. Every time I look at you I just want to be a better person, I know I don’t show it but I cherish you… I want to spend my life with you and only you, I need you by my side, I will be good to you Will I promise, I love you… all I ask is that you love me back, just a little… o-or learn to do so in time… can you do that Will?” Will felt Mason’s tears drip down his own face before landing between them on the bed, the man had completely laid himself bare, and probably for the first time ever. Still with their foreheads pressed together Will placed his own hands around Mason’s that cupped his cheeks and spoke. There was hope before, just a tiny flicker and in that moment Will had a choice of kindness or cruelty… it took no time at all for him to decide.

“I-I can’t… I can’t, Mason I’m sorry… I can’t.” Will saw the recoil of crippling emotional pain invade every inch of Mason in that moment, he pulled back and looked at him with such a saddened expression until it was replaced with that same face of anger he'd given Will a million times before, Mason stood from the bed and wiped away his tears, frozen as the realisation hit that Will is never going to love him back. 

“Mason…” Will felt the stinging in his nose and his throat started to tighten, opening his mouth to let in a small breath as tears welled in his eyes, his chest heaved with a quiet sob as the tears began slip down his own cheeks without resistance. Another sob wracked him in anticipation of what was coming, “Mason please say something.”

The nausea swirled unrestrained in Mason’s empty stomach, his head swam with half-formed regrets for saying anything at all, he laid himself bare and felt the rejection he had feared so much. Mason’s heart felt as if his blood had become tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat, it is a cruelty of life that a heart can keep on beating even after it has been broken in two. It can feel as though it is being gripped in an ice-cold vice and ache as if it will implode in your chest, but still the boom boom continues. 

Mason is in so much internal pain his complexion has turned ashen, his usually natural golden skin has sunken in tone to something so lifeless that it scared Will just to look at him because anger was next. Mason’s eyes close and he sucks in breath as though he is trying to retreat to a deeper place to cope. The pain throbs in his guts, it's deep and warm, but not in a nice way. It feels like someone has their hand in there and are squeezing his organs first gently and then as hand as they can.

“I can stop loving you Will, it won’t take much, you have betrayed my affections and you have stolen a part of me that I can never get back now, you have made it impossible for me to put myself back together, and yet, I always come back around to you. Why is that? Perhaps I hoped that you were different from the rest but your not. People like you just take more and more but it is never enough. You are cold and you can't love anything but yourself, you are the cruel one not me.” 

The anger that flashes through Mason is routine but it has never been this bad before, it propels him forward as he suddenly lunges at Will, grabbing him by the neck to pull him up and slam him into the opposite wall, he doesn't wait, not for a reaction, not for anything, his hands simply squeeze harder. 

"You are an ungrateful son of a bitch!!" Will chokes desperately in Mason’s grip, bringing his own hands up to the man’s in a panicked attempt to pull them away, he kicks out and struggles, only managing to strangle himself further, small whines and gasps coming out between his movements. It only takes a couple of moments for him to stop, kicks getting weaker, hands only holding on to the one wrapped around his throat rather than pulling. Will’s mouth opens to choke in wheezy breaths, lips forming pleading words that are unintelligible like this, that was it Mason had no use for him now, he was going to kill him.

Mason only watches his pathetic struggling, he watches Will's kicking slow, staring intently at his face, only squeezing tighter with every word he attempts to mumble out and Mason thinks about how easy it would be to snuff out Will's life. As he continues, he only hopes Will realizes it too. How fragile he truly is. How his life belongs in Mason's hands, belongs to him.

Mason keeps squeezing, waiting to see when the light would start to fade in Will’s eyes.  
It doesn't take long for all of Will’s movements to stop, his grip on Mason’s hands loosen up, until they're barely hanging on, his eyes threatening to roll back, he breathlessly tries to plead for Mason to stop, nails scratching at him.

Mason keeps squeezing and using all of his strength, Will weeps out a small ‘Mason’ still scrabbling pathetically at his hands up until the last moment. When his hands give out and fall to his sides Mason releases his grip and watches as Will drops to the ground panting as the oxygen flowed once more, after a much coughing and spluttering he finally gets into a normal breathing rhythm.

Mason stares down at Will with nothing but disgust in his eyes as he began to open his belt.

“I think it’s time to get fully acquainted now Will, your mouth just isn’t doing it for me anymore…”


	8. Gracious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason takes it as far as he can with Will, he unleashes another barbaric punishment when he realises that Will is never going to love him...
> 
> Will reaches his breaking point and completely gives up, but will he have to succumb to his life with Mason or will Hannibal's gift to Randall change both their outcomes?
> 
> A big BIG thank you to anyone and everyone still following this story! Especially to the ones that have left a comment and a kudo, it has been appreciated... I know it isn't a widely followed shipping so the attention of the story has really made me happy! And for all you loyal Will/Hannibal followers their relationship is featured going forward so I hope you enjoy!

Mason crouched down beside Will, using his fingers to brush through the sweaty locks, pushing it back out of Will’s eyes and then briefly checked his throat, making an approving grunt at the bruises he had just inflicted. Using his grip on the hair Mason smiled as he roughly pulled Will to his feet and slammed him face down on the bed, knowing what is about to happen is beyond terrifying but for a moment Will is too scared to move, until Mason reached down and there is the sound of fabric tearing as his shorts are ripped from his body, leaving him completely naked and vulnerable.

Will lets out sob filled grunt when a sharp pain follows as Mason climbed on the bed pressing a knee down hard on the centre of Will’s back, the weight is heavy and Mason uses it to hold the agent in place as he finally rids himself of all clothing.

Mason peers down at the trembling form, thinking for a moment before pulling the cuffs from the night stand, when the first cuff is secured Will begins to fight back in vain, struggling as Mason finally forces both hands behind his back and secures the second cuff tightly. Will pulls against the restraints, squirming in a failed attempt to pull himself from under the sadistic aristocrat, he knows struggling will make it worse, it always did, but he is too scared to remain pliant. Will’s expression became even more deliciously frightened when Mason’s knee is brought down with even more pressure sending spikes of arousal throughout the aristocrat.

“Mason please don’t! Stop! Please stop!!” Will sobbed into the sheets unceasingly, the wailing only broken for short pauses of recovering, hitching breaths. The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down Will’s face as the muscles of his chin tremble without signs of stopping and he looks toward the window, as if the view of the sky could somehow soothe him. But there is nothing that offers any solace right now, fear is no longer just a feeling, it’s a physical state that engulfs him with nothing other than what is coming. Leaning down Mason adds more pressure with his knee before a hand follows suit and is pressed against Will’s neck to force his face into the pillow, slightly muffling the pleas that are falling on deaf ears.

“You brought this on yourself Will! Now stay still! Or I can really make it hurt!” The warning does little to stem Will’s struggle, his pleas turn to sobs when he realises nothing will stop what is about to happen. 

“Please Mason… please I’m begging you just stop… please… please… stop… STOOOOP!!!”

Mason doesn’t give Will a moment to breathe, with one hand he rakes his nails down hard at the smooth expanse of his back, whilst leaning down to bite painfully at the skin of his shoulder, hard enough for Will’s blood to well to the surface. Pulling back Mason continues to bite down until the skin snaps back from his teeth, smiling as he looks down at painfully raw marks, still Will begs, pleads for him to stop.

Flipping the panicked form over Mason placed a hand either side of his head and begins to get irritated when Will won’t stop squirming and sobbing, he won’t just be fucking still and take it. This just aggravates Mason further so he slams his mouth to Will’s only to pull back and punch him hard when the agent tries to bite him. Mason sneers down, grabs Will jaw and forces his mouth open, pressing his tongue into Will’s mouth and smirks to himself when the panicked agent freezes beneath him.

When Mason’s lips trail to his neck Will again attempts to squirm from beneath him so Mason releases one of the cuffs and raises Will’s arms above his head to wrap it around and secure his wrists to the head board, strapping him in place. Mason trailed his fingers down the smooth skin as he moved back down Will’s body, sucking and biting dark marks into every inch of the pale, smooth flesh.

“D-don’t! Mason p-p-lease don’t! Stop!” Will continuous cries are a verbal aphrodisiac for Mason as he bites harder at the flesh of Will’s chest, each time he pulls back with an audible pop and smiles when Will’s upper half looks like he’s been mauled by a particularly angry animal. Mason licks his lips, watching as every inch of the agent’s body breaks out into uncontrollable tremors.

“Why would I stop? You are my personal little whore and you will do whatever I want! You are nothing more than property Will, a toy to be used however I wish…” When Will closed his eyes Mason’s grip around his throat tightened as he demanded Will open them, when they remain closed he pulls back once more and punches him hard again. “OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES.” Will cried like there was too much raw pain inside him to be contained, he cried like his spirit needed to break loose from his skin, desperate to release an elemental rage on the world he screamed as he pleaded for it to stop.

The fear only intensifies when Mason pulls the lube from the nightstand, slicking up a few fingers inches from Will’s face, he can feel the sweat drench every inch of his skin, the ringing of his own screams vibrating in his ears as his fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms secured so painfully above his head. Hesitantly, Will’s eyes look up and fear engulfs his conscience when Mason trails slicked up fingers down his chest and moves to press them against the tensed up hole attempting to protect his innocent insides from what he knows is going to happen, but Mason doesn’t hesitate to roughly shove three of his fingers inside the virginal hole.

“AARGHH!! STOP! MASON PLEASE STOP!!” Will shrieks loud, like a dying animal, he wants to punch the shit-eating grin off Mason’s face, as he tries hard to force the invading digits out by clenching around them, unable to control his body tightening in pain. Will is so tight around Mason’s fingers, his nails scrape against the delicate insides as he goes between spreading his fingers, and pressing them deep inside amidst Will’s screams.

“Christ you are such a good whore! Can’t keep yourself quiet can you?” Mason spreads his fingers wider, hearing Will groan loudly from behind the gag, moving close to Will’s ear Mason smile widely. “This is going to hurt…” Mason punctuated his comment by thrusting his fingers as deep as they would go, making Will’s hips lurch forward with a cry.

Finally Mason pulled back his fingers, earning him a pained sob. Will squirms, pulling at his bound hands so hard he can barely feel his fingers with how hard he’s clenching them, he almost gives a sigh of relief, thinking it’s over, pulling at the restraints when he tries to sit up, but Mason simply pushes him back down.

“I don’t think so Will… this is far from over!” Will tries desperately to close his legs, but Mason simply uses his own knees to spread them wide open and keep them there.

“Look at you Will, spread so wide for me… like this, everything out on display, shiny and wet… if you just relax you may enjoy it.” Will continued to sob as Mason glances down at him and makes a decision, he picks up his own underwear from where he’d tossed it, balls it up and stuffs it inside his mouth, holding it there when Will begins to thrash, Mason makes quick work of grabbing his belt from his pants and wraps it tightly around Will head, buckling it so it keeps the makeshift gag in place. Will screams in earnest until he realises he can barely even be heard, he can’t do anything but shake and watch as Mason picks up the lube for a second time, slicking up his own length as he smiles down at Will. 

“It really is amazing what a little blue pill can do Will, we shall have to thank Cordell for this evenings fun.” Will tries to cry out that he doesn’t want this from under the bitter gag, but the muffled noises that leave him almost sound like moans of pleasure.

Mason watched when Will’s eyes became two huge orbs as he stroked himself to full mast, he allowed the panicked agent a moment to go between staring at his cock and struggling for air as Mason grabbed his ass, pulling him a little further down the bed so his cock could gain entrance. The muffled pleas increased as Mason pressed his dick against Will’s hole, it took some pushing, but he finally managed to get his flared out head inside, letting out a groan as he enjoyed the feeling of stretching Will out. 

There is a scream from beneath the gag that forces its way through the fabric, it is as if Will’s terrified soul had unleashed a demon. All he feels is anger, his eyes snap open wide with horror, his body going rigid as Mason inches inside of him slowly. Will’s fists clenched with blanched knuckles, his nails digging deeply into the palms of his hand at the searing pain, it isn't sharp like a needle point or a knife, it burns around his innards better than boiling water. Everything feels scolded and move or not, he is in more pain than he could have ever imagined was possible.

Mason started things off at a slow, leisurely pace, working his cock in and out amidst the sound of his cries, if the sound Will made against his fingers was akin to a dying animal’s shriek, Mason doesn’t know what to call the sound he makes when he finally thrusts his cock inside, immediately bottoming out. The noise is loud enough for him to hear it clearly even around the gag. Will’s vision swims and blacks out for several moments, the pain of the stretch is unbearable, he’s full to bursting and spread wide around Mason’s huge length. 

“Shit! So fucking tight.” Mason groans out, sighing at the tight heat as he languidly rolls his hips, he has Will exactly where he wants him now, content to take it slow. The drag of his cock, the feel of Will clenched around him is blissful, and the fact the agent is currently a beacon of fear and pain, it just arouses Mason even more. 

“Fuck you feel good! Just relax Will… it will feel so much better if you just relax.” Mason spoke soothingly as he fucked Will for a while, his thrusts were shallow at first, but quickly began building in depth and rhythm. 

Will’s cries and pleading rose as his hole stroked Mason’s cock, his grunts mingling with the agents cries in a way that turned the aristocrat on to no end. Till the day he dies, Mason will never forget the ecstasy of those wails, or the way his cock looked stretching Will’s hole out so wide it almost looked like he was giving birth, the muffled sobs increase, his vision blurred with tears as Mason picked up the pace, wet slapping sounds filling the room as he began to fuck Will with reckless abandon.

Groaning loudly Mason dragged Will’s body impossibly closer, pulling his cuffed hands taught, the movement sends a fresh wave of pain throughout Will, and a fresh bought of tears down his scrunched up face. A slew of screams erupt from behind the gag as Mason holds his hips in place and gives some deep thrusts, trying to find a more comfortable position for himself.

Finally in the perfect position Mason gave up some of his self-control and started to give Will a good fucking, slamming his hips forward hard he lost all sense of time in those tight muscled walls that squeezed him so damn hard, it took everything he had not to just nut after two or three thrusts. Mason’s groans only got louder as he started fucking up into Will faster, nails cutting into the pale hips as he grunted loudly, nearing his high.

Mason gives a particular harsh thrust up, using his whole body in the force of it, lifting Will’s thin frame clean off the bed easily and his now dead weight makes him unconsciously match every one of Mason’s movements.

“OH FUCK! FUCK!!” Mason moaned even louder when one hand left Will’s hip to wrap securely around his throat and squeezed, using his grasp on Will’s hip and throat he pulled him down hard onto each thrust. Breathing was hard enough, but the sudden loss of air in his lungs made Will panic, he couldn’t get his arms free to stop Mason. Fuck what if he doesn’t let go? Will’s hips bucked faster in panicked motions, he gave up his own self-control and started whining in a mix of pain and fear. Mason only loosens his grip slightly when Will’s eyes begin to roll back, and he tightens it once again when the young agent attempts to regain his breathing.

When Mason almost cums he returns to his slower pace for a few moments, leisurely rolling his hips, wanting it to last as long as possible. Watching Will at this angle, he can only move down and meet his cock, or move up and meet the tight grip around his neck, it’s a delicious sight. “FUCK YOU ARE SO TIGHT! MY DIRTY LITTLE SLUT!!” Mason groaned out and began thrusting up harder, lost in the white hot roar of his impending orgasm he fucked into Will faster than he thought possible. 

Will fears he will pass out, he can’t breathe, his body shakes violently as the man fucks into him, his head begins to pound as Mason starts thrusting up into him even faster, holding him tightly in place, the cuffs and grip around his neck preventing any movement. Mason doesn’t give a shit about been gentle with Will, why should he? As far as he is concerned, he doesn’t think Will deserves that respect after rebuffing his advances.

Mason groans loudly, pumping his hips up to deliver several deep thrusts, he’s so close, his balls are heavy and pull tight against his body as Will’s ass continuously slaps down onto him, his grip around the slender throat tightens so hard that it completely cuts off all air supply, and the sight of Will’s eyes bulging, the feeling of his body jerking to find oxygen as he bounces back from each thrust of his cock has Mason reaching climax, Will felt his insides burn as the man thrust up hard one more time, throwing his head back with a loud moan as he came deep inside. Breathing heavy, Mason continued moving his hips in slow, deep, circular motions inside the formally virginal body, riding out the last of his high.

Will turned his head to the side, fixing his unfocused gaze out of the pitch black window unable to watch Mason riding out the last highs of his orgasm, slowly his body jerked with each descending thrust. The world stopped on its axis, all the sights, the smells, the touch, everything just stopped, it was the only momentary release the world could offer because soon, Will felt a hot breath on his neck, then the tender brush of lips, burning as they made contact with his skin. 

“Well that was fun… you feel better than I could have ever imagined.” Mason panted out as Will winced when he finally pulled out, the action was followed with a steady trickle of blood but still, his gaze remained fixed on the square of black, his eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold. In that moment Mason knew Will was far away, his focus was anywhere but on him, as if he had become invisible, or Will could simply not bare to see him at all, and he guesses it’s the latter. 

Taking a moment to gain his breath, Mason placed a patronising kiss upon Will’s cheek before climbing from the bed and moved to the adjoining bathroom to take a shower. Will remained frozen, his eyes remained to the side, becoming glazed with a glassy layer of tears, he bit his lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from his mouth. Will was nothing but empty now, there was no going back from this barbaric assault, long after his tears had dried and his abrasions had healed, his sense of self worth would remained in tatters, Will felt like a distortion what he once was, unable to ever find his way back.

Will couldn't have cried even if he wanted to, he hadn't experienced this feeling before… the sadness was still there, but not raw anymore, now everything was a vat of numbness, his body nothing more than a toy to be used. Will isn’t sure how much time passes when Mason leaves the bathroom to dress, humming happily as he did, after the joyful encounter he decides he will most certainly be obtaining a few more blue pills from Cordell. 

Dressed in his most prestigious suit, Mason finally released the cuffs from Will’s bruised wrists and nudged him off the bed, Hannibal had requested a meeting to hand over the third file and Mason has decided to use this as an opportunity, more precisely, Will’s last chance to behave. The Doctor had also made a request to speak with Randall, the appointment was guised as a check up to enquire about any ill effects of his medication and Mason saw no reason to deny the request, and that appointment should be just about ending.

“Change the sheets and take a shower, I suggest you do it quickly as we have somewhere to be.”

“Yes Mason.” Every movement is robotic when Will stands and turns to place his hands on the bedsheets, but upon movement his body jolts at the pain rushed through his body like an igniting fire, for a moment his eyes squeezed closed and his face contorted when he began to pull the soaked silk sheets from the mattress, Will didn’t know which stain was revolting, probably the small circle of blood that had seeped from deep within him. Never had he ever experienced such pain, even the short walk to the bathroom was agony, he walks as though his limbs don’t really belong to him anymore, he guesses they don’t, but still each step is a negotiation rather than an order.

“Well bravo to me huh!? You can barely even walk.” Mason sat back in the chair as he leisurely filed his nails, smirking at Will’s agony while priding himself on a successful encounter, he may have to pay a visit to Randall and put this whole rumor of he ‘can’t get it up’ to bed.

“Hello Randall.” Taking a seat beside Randall in the empty booth Hannibal almost expected Randall to question who he was, from Mason’s report of calm behavior the tortured dancer had been displaying tells Hannibal that he had chosen to ignore his advice and take the medication regardless, but Randall’s next comment proved otherwise.

“It’s the twenty second of November today.”

“Yes it is, how are you feeling Randall? Mason tells me that you have been much calmer since we last spoke.” Hannibal found it comforting to know that Randall had been able to keep the watch well enough hidden that he was still in possession of it.

“I’m feeling fine… how are you Hannibal?” Hannibal knew from the second Randall made eye contact that he hadn’t taken the medication, users of the ones he prescribed will look and feel both drowsy and hazy for weeks until they become acclimated to the effects. But just because Randall hadn’t taken the mediation that didn’t mean he was speaking with a cohesive mind, the illnesses he has are devastating to the mind, and a scattered thought pattern is not uncommon.

“I am well, thank you for asking Randall, tell me how are you finding the medication?”

“Are we playing that game again?”

“What game would that be?”

“The game of asking questions that you already know the answer to… you know I haven’t been taking the medication.”

“I apologise, may I ask how you have been disposing of it?” Hannibal was more than relieved to know that Randall still holds memory of their previous encounter, it isn’t just important to the design, its vital. 

“Well… do you see that guy over there in the red shorts?” Hannibal followed Randall’s line of view to a very over the top male that didn’t seem to resent his presence within these walls at all, he draped himself over what looked to be an usher, giggling as he did. 

“I do.”

“Well all the top elites like playing with him, and all the guards and ushers like him because he blows them on the sly for cigarettes and drink, so he gets away with things all the time and he thinks that makes him special… and he is an asshole to us all because of it, well anyway! Thursdays are his busy day but it wasn’t yesterday…” When Randall glanced over, his face cast a dead stare, as sombre as he could manage, yet he failed, there at the corner of his lips was a crease of amusement as he prepared to reel off his information.

“And why was that Randall?”

“Because I put some of my pills in his first drink at the start of his shift and then it was night night asshole!! He got punished because Mason thought he had been drinking in his room before his shift and passed out, lost him lots of monies!!” Hannibal tried not to smile as Randall pointed to a few different victims of his medication stunt, his eyes gazed over each one like a child in a candy store, the tortured soul had a look of peace in his face as he relayed his acts against them. Hannibal guesses the chances for redemption are few and far between in this place, so no matter how small, each one was a victory for the trapped person.

“You have to be careful with your decisions Randall, you know how dangerous that medication can be.”

“Nobody is careful with me.” The rapidity of the statement is shocking, but the words are simply devastating, no person deserves to be trapped in this life and Hannibal’s sheer empathy lies completely with Randall and every other soul trapped by Mason in these walls. 

“Do you remember what we talked about at our last meeting Randall?”

“I do… do you?”

“Yes Randall I do.”

“I’m still waiting aren’t I? or have I missed it? I don’t think I missed it because I’m always in my room.”

“You haven’t missed anything Randall, the day is coming very soon ok? You just need to remember that.” Hannibal reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cheesy puffs to slide across the table to Randall, he was extremely impressed at the tortured dancers intelligence and ability to deceive for his own gain, and after he had even convinced Mason that their meeting was nothing more than what was intended, Hannibal knew he had chosen the right inside man.

“Thank you… I like cheesy puffs…” 

“I know you do, is Cordell or Mason supplying your dose of medication Randall or are you being trusted with the bottle?”

“I only used what I should Hannibal duh! I still have what I should left.” Again Hannibal is fascinated with Randall’s attention and forethought, it’s not one that untreated schizophrenics usually possess, their mind is too scattered to retain information but Randall had, he knew what Hannibal meant without him even having to ask the question, he had counted out the pills and worked out exactly how long they should last in case they were checked.

Both men look over at the door when Mason enters pulling a dejected, slightly limping Will behind him, Randall almost gets excited to see his friend but his eyes fall to the leash and he knows there would be no drink together tonight, there never was when Will was leashed, it means Mason wants him close and judging by Hannibal’s next comment, it’s an opportunity for Mason to bestow more humiliation on his friend with an audience.

Mason pulled Will to their usual table and sat down, getting comfortable as he waved his hand at Franklyn for his usual drink, once settled, Mason clicked his fingers gesturing for Will to crouch between his legs which he did, using the leash, Mason pulled him close enough to run his hand through the still slightly damp locks.

“I have to go and speak with Mason now Randall, remember, it’s coming soon.” Randall nodded as he pulled open the packet, grateful for the small treat.

Walking over to Mason, Hannibal sat in the chair opposite the man who had seemed to watch the last of the interaction very closely, he maintained his usual eye contact with Mason rather than Will crouched between the man’s legs, who looked worse than he ever had before, not so much physically but something about his demeanor was completely different. 

“So! what is your verdict Doctor?”

“Randall seems to be doing much better, I would recommend keeping him on the medication, he certainly appears to calmer. I was curious as to whether or not you took my advice about therapy for him?”

“Before I invest in any type of therapy for him I wanted to see how he reacted to the medication, but yes, he does seem calmer! There have been no fights, no smashed glasses… no melt downs, but then again when you give a dog a treat it often promotes good behavior.”

“Some refer to that as operant conditioning, it was a well founded study conducted by Ivan Pavlov, I do hope I didn’t overstep the mark by bringing Randall a bag of snacks, I see the act as nothing more than a friendly gesture that gains trust, and trust is needed with meetings such as the ones I have had with him.” Leaning forward Mason smiled, his petting of Will’s hair turned to a slight rough grasp as he moved to prove his next point, never breaking eye contact with Hannibal as he spoke with arrogance.

“You really don’t need to be friendly with them Doctor they are pretty pliant…” Grasping Will’s hair tighter, Mason slightly shook him to ensure he got his point across to the less than comfortable Hannibal. “We do appear to share a high regard when it comes to trust though!” Mason smirked as he raised his eyebrows, leaning back in the chair he released Will’s hair, but maintained his eye contact with Hannibal.

“I would hope so.”

“Tell me Doctor Lecter do you have the time?” Mason stared into Hannibal's eyes, determined not to look away first, he was certain the Doctor was trying to hide something more than his gift to Randall, determined to fool him. Mason contorted his lips into an awkward, toothy smile, but his cheeks were not so compromising, he could feel their reluctance to be moulded falsely. When Hannibal finally averted his gazed the aristocrats smile fell lifeless, allowing his face to return to its usual cold hard gawk.

“You are an astute man Mason.”

“And you seem to be a generous one Doctor! I know everything that goes on within these walls, I am nothing but flexible though, for now anyway… especially as we have an arrangement that we both seem to be sticking to, but two more files and that transaction is complete, you will have what you want, and I, what I want. After that I’m sure we can hash out any issues that we hold with one another, if there are any of course.”

“I’m sure.” 

“You seem to have finished with Randall a little early, so at the very least, maybe we are finally able to have that drink together? Unless it is my company you are trying to avoid? It’s just that your presence seems to be consistent when I am indisposed, but I am certain I am misreading that situation.” 

“I find your selection of fine wine to be exquisite, and certainly not worthy of rejection.”

“Excellent! Please excuse me for a moment.” Leaving the table to get the drinks himself rather than Franklyn fetching them served the purpose of witnessing Will’s behavior toward the Doctor.

With his back to the bar Hannibal took the opportunity to look down at the broken form, Will had pulled his knees tight to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around them, he leant sideways into the chair as he stared off into space, not really focusing on anything around him. Hannibal had seen the young agent in many stages of his grief by this point, but something about his demeanor right now was different, a quick glance down at the hem of Will’s shorts wrapped too tightly around his thigh gave up the reason for the now completely shattered form. Blood, only a few speckles and dried but it didn’t take a genius to figure out the source of the bleeding, and this was clearly the first time the assault had been taken that far.

“I am truly sorry Will.” Will didn’t move, he didn’t flinch or blink, in fact it didn’t even look as though he had registered Hannibal’s words, but yes he heard them.

“Please don’t talk to me… I can’t take any more.” Will knows that Mason is watching for any form of interaction between the two and already that was too much.

Mason watched closely, resting an arm on the bar as Cordell moved to his side, “Now is it just me Cordell, or do they appear to be having a well hidden conversation?” Cordell knew there was no conversation between the two, there was no looks or secretive actions, but if Mason thinks there is then it is his job to agree.

“The pair just don’t seem to respect the rules Mason, and if I can offer an honest opinion I think that Doctor Lecter is planning to turn on you the second your arrangement is through.” 

“I think that has been the clear intention from the beginning Cordell, when I get the last file you can watch as I slit his throat and throw him to the pigs! But clearly the current and recent punishments are just not enough to teach our Will his place either, so that leaves me with only one option… Cordell please have the object I requested taken up to my room as I have let this go on for long enough.” 

“Of course sir.” Will’s head remained down when Mason once again took his seat, he prayed that he had done nothing to anger the aristocrat in the two minutes he was away but guesses he will find out.

“Thank you Mason.” Hannibal took the drink offer and attempted to find a view that wasn’t filled with suffering, not finding anything his eyes travel back to the sick man. “You must source your wine.”

“I do Doctor, not me personally of course, I have people for that… but I like the best of the best, it appeared that you also did at one time or another.” 

“A person’s taste can change Mason.” Finishing his drink quickly Hannibal stood to put on his jacket, not wanting to be in the presence of the man any longer than necessary. “I’m sure it won’t be long until we see each other again Mason, have a pleasant evening.”

“The same to you Doctor, the same to you!”

The second Hannibal left the bar Mason dropped the leash in favor of grabbing the collar and roughly pulled Will to his feet, the young agent didn’t even attempt to struggle against him, shooting his right leg out Will attempted to stand and keep up with the fast pace as he was pulled through the door, but his movements were far too slow. Mason pushed Will to the foot of the stairs, the agile gesture causing him to stumble to the ground, a sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Will’s body as Mason kicked him hard in the stomach, his arms lost tension and his legs began to weaken, his feet dragging against every step as Mason grabbed the collar once more and pulled him up the stairs.

Finally upstairs, Mason pressed Will up against the wall beside the bedroom door, pushing his knee hard into the already bruised spine. “This was your last chance and you blew it!” Will didn’t beg or plead, he didn’t cry or question his penance, because he knew what his supposed crime had been and to try and convince Mason there was nothing going on was pointless, because he has just realised the facts don’t matter… the jealousy is in the aristocrats mind would always be there. 

“I have warned you repeatedly Will! More times than I should have had to but still you continue to flaunt yourself at that fucking man! I honestly thought you had learnt your lesson but clearly not! So, if you wish to act like an animal then you will be treated as such… I am truly disgusted at your slutty behavior, I have given you so many chances, but still you insist on throwing yourself at a man you don’t even know! WHAT IS SO SPECIAL ABOUT HIM!? I don’t think a whipping will suffice for that level of depravity… and as I wish to use you again unspoiled, I will not be sending you to the rack either.”

Will is not left wondering what the punishment will be for long when he is dragged into the bedroom and he sees a small dog cage in the corner of the bedroom, it’s tiny, they are built for dogs, not fully-grown adults. The young agent will have to be bent over double with his chest to his knees just to fit inside, and that thought terrifies Will, it would anybody, but his place on the spectrum promotes a severe aversion to tight spaces, he can’t cope with confined spaces in any aspect, elevators, crowds, small rooms, hugs...

Claustrophobia is Will’s curse, it’s a terror that has been building inside of him ever since he was condemned to live within this house, the walls have been shrinking day by day and when they start to close in, he wants to curl his hands into fists and punch right through them. Logically Will knows they aren't moving, but ever since his freedom was taken his heart had started pounding and it hadn’t ever stopped, he is now trapped in a bubble of claustrophobia and its hell. Will’s mind continuously searched for ways to escape with all the methodology of a bouncing ball, just like right now, but as always there are no exits. 

Will’s stomach lurches, adrenaline pumped when Mason slammed the bedroom door behind them and allows Will to drop to his knees as the collar is released from around his neck, but it’s quickly replaced with a different one, it’s not the usual leather this time though it’s a metal chain and when Mason attaches a leash to it and drags Will closer to the cage, he quickly realises it’s a choke chain.

“In mutt!”

“NO!! Mason ple-” Mason yanked the chain hard at Will’s refusal, pulling him even closer.

“IN!” Still, Will pushed against it, this is his worst nightmare and he can’t cope with it.

“I will not tell you again Will! If I have to force you in there I will! And if I can’t, then Cordell would be happy to.”

“NO MASON PLEASE! I DON’T HAVE ANY INTEREST IN HIM I SWEAR! I WILL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! I WILL BE BETTER! NO PLEASE STOP!!” Tears stream down Will’s cheeks as he is dragged impossibly closer to the cage, his feet push hard against the ground in a desperate attempt to push himself away from his impending confinement, shrieking louder than he thought possible. Will’s upper body and shoulders wrack with every sob that forces its way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as he gasps for breath, he throws his head back to let out a blood curdling scream when Mason drops the leash and hooks his arms under Will’s own and pushes him forward. 

The scream came again, desperate and terrified when he is finally pushed to the open door of the cage and before he was even aware of making a conscious decision Will’s legs kick out, pounding furiously against the steel bars.

“The longer you speak out of turn, the longer you are going to be in there… so if I were you I would stop right now!!” Mason loses patience and pressed his foot against Will’s lower back pushing hard as he forces the panicked agent inside, but still Will fights against the cage, sobbing hysterically as the door closes. The cage is extremely small and Will can’t sit up once inside it, he can’t stretch his arms or legs either and can barely breathe. Mason locked the cage door regardless of the screaming sobs and crouched down in front of it with a smile, judging from the pure terror he realises he has finally found a punishment that will scare Will into line.

“Now, you are going to stay in here until I think you have learnt your lesson, if you actually ever do that is! BECAUSE I AM TIRED OF GIVING YOU CHANCES!! IF NOT I WILL JUST THROW YOU IN THE CAGE IN THE LAKE OUT BACK!!” Mason stood for a second kicking the cage with force, before straightening out his suit and composing himself, calmly he sank back to his knees and pushed a hand between the bars to softly pet at Will’s hair. “I gave you the rules, and I have given you warnings, I even gave you ample opportunities to redeem yourself but still you just don’t learn! You did this to yourself Will… all you had to do was love me.” When Mason stood to leave Will knew he wasn’t going anywhere and the thought terrified him, he knew his screams would fall on deaf ears but that didn’t stop him when the man walked away. 

“MASON PLEASE!!! I’M SORRY MASON!! MASON PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR!! MASON!!!!” Will heard the bedroom door open and close and didn’t see Mason again for hours, he spent every moment of them screaming and crying, pushing against the cage in a feral attempt to get out, but all that got him was more cuts. Exhaustion soon takes over and Will curled up on his side defeated, wrapping his arms around his own body in a futile attempt to soothe himself. 

Will knows he is breathing but the air just won't go in, it felt as though his lungs were slowly filling with water, as if there is just less space in them for the air. The exertion brings on more breathlessness, like the air around him is devoid of oxygen, his ribs heave up and down but no benefit comes and all that follows is dizziness. The darkened space swirls unrestrained and it felt like his innards were being replaced by some kind of black hole, the nausea crept from his abdomen to his head and slowly the world went black.

Mason appeared in the bedroom again hours later, the slammed bedroom door pulls Will from his unconscious slumber back into his terrifying reality, he hears Mason climb in to bed but Will wasn’t acknowledged, it didn’t stop him pleading though, he would do anything to get out of that cage, but his pleas only anger the drunk Mason who wants nothing more than sleep. “M-Mason p-please open the door… please Mason.”

“Be quiet Will.”

“Please Mason… I will do whatever you wan-”

“SHUT UP!! DON’T YOU DARE KEEP ME AWAKE WITH YOUR SNIVELLING!!”

Will isn’t sure at what point he blacked out again, and Mason wasn’t sure what time he stopped listening to the sniffling, but when he climbed out of bed in the morning he looked down at the cage that held his anger. Will’s hair was dishevelled, and he was covered in vomit but surprisingly Mason felt no satisfaction from the broken image in front of him, though he felt no guilt either, Will had done this to himself, he needs to learn the rules and not to behave like an animal it really is that simple.

Mason showered and dressed but didn’t go straight down for breakfast, instead he sat in the chair and waited for Will to come round, although he isn’t sure why. Will knows he blacked out at some point because when he comes to he sees Mason sitting in the chair placed directly in front of the cage, Will whimpers lightly when he raises his head and realises he is covered in vomit, and at some point in the night he had pissed himself.

“Look at me Will.” Will does his best to strain his neck in the small cage but his gaze only makes it as far as Mason’s knees.

“Was your disgusting behavior worth all this?”

“N-no Mason, I’m sorry… please let me-” Mason cuts him straight off.

“I told you last night Will not fucking good enough! I honestly thought we were finally in a good place, but your behavior last night proved otherwise! I certainly don’t want to touch you, look at you! You are disgusting! Covered in your own filth, you look absolutely revolting.” Will’s head lowers back down, he has never felt more ashamed than he does right now, Mason is right, he is disgusting.

“I am going to breakfast, you will not be eating today, Cordell will be up shortly to hose you down! In the meantime I suggest you think about what you have done.” With that the bedroom door is slammed and Mason makes his way to the dining hall, true to his word Cordell appears no less than five minutes later to drag the cage to the bathroom and uses the shower head to hose Will down through the bars, the burley butler turned it to the coldest setting but still, Will feels numb.

Mason continues his usual daily routines with things in and out of the home, but the time he usually spends in his bedroom is moved to the office to give will the added punishment of consistent silence. After three days Will can’t bear it anymore, he’s naked and freezing, everything just hurts, he just wants out… Mason has started spending time in his bedroom again but Will is rarely acknowledged, the aristocrat is doing something just outside of Will’s line of view, but within ear range so he gives it a shot.

“Permission to speak please Mason?” This was the first time in days Will had spoken calmly, there was no screaming or sobbing, just a twinge of desperation in his voice. It’s the broken spirit Mason had been waiting for, so for the first time he doesn’t demand that Will shut up, or move to kick the cage, instead he decides to allow Will his voice. 

“You have permission to speak mutt.” 

God Will hated that so much…

“Can we please talk Mason I have some things I would like to say to you.” Will trembled, hunched over in the cage that has now become his world, the only decorations are his own nail marks on the steel he cannot break free from. Though he knows there is freedom outside those walls it now feels a million miles away and every time he reaches out for it the floor sinks a little lower, jolting his body as it stops, crushing him with a new pain, another punishment. Perhaps now is the time to realize he isn't going to get out, his future is here, all he has to look forward to is pain and fear, it is an unwalkable road. Even if Will tried it would be a journey into a land devoid of hope, it is one thing to look back and realize you were in darkness, it is quite another to look ahead and realise your days are no longer your own.

The dawning realisation that he will never be released is almost freeing, the despair is a heady blackness, the ways forward Will had thought possible have vanished to black, not blocked, but like they were never there at all. The notion of hope has become meaningless and if his mind should continue to linger on such ideas the blows will be so much worse, so maybe if he gave up that last shred of hope it wouldn’t feel so bad? Will has nothing left to give other than the last shred of his free will, and if that’s what he has to give to gain even a morsal of peace then so be it.

“Ok, that’s fine, speak.” Will stupidly expected Mason to open the door, but he simply crouches in front of the cage instead. 

Voice coming out in shivers Will begins to beg, it’s what he is reduced to.

“I’m sorry for my behavior with Hannibal Mason, I shouldn’t have acted like a slut and I’m grateful for my punishment, I know I keep saying I will be better but then I never am… b-but I mean it this time, I won’t misbehave again I promise… I-I want you to forgive me but I don’t know how to get forgiveness, but I am really really sorry, and I know it’s not good enough but I promise I will do better… I promise... just please let me out I’m begging you.” 

Mason sighs, but doesn’t sound angry this time, Will is a little shocked when Mason puts his hand through the bars and lightly strokes his hair.

“I understand that you are sorry Will, really I do, but this isn’t the first time that you have said that and it certainly doesn’t excuse your behavior, I am tired of you making a fool out of me where that man is concerned and if I forgive you every time you say you are sorry then you are never going to learn anything are you? You’re not coming out of the cage just yet, but if you keep being a good boy then I promise your punishment won’t last too much longer.”

Mason leaves to continue whatever he was doing, he sticks to his word and keeps Will in the cage for a couple more days, he doesn’t even allow Will a bathroom break, instead each morning when Mason leaves for breakfast Cordell enters to hose down whatever Will cannot hold, he supposed Mason doesn’t want to smell the piss and shit any more than he wants to lay in it. 

On the fifth day Will feels as though he’s losing his mind, Mason is laid on the bed laughing at some show while making his way through copious amounts of chocolate and bourbon, biting into and consuming the ones he likes whilst throwing the remnants of the ones he doesn’t at the cage. The routine is only broken when the phone beside the bed rings, Will knows that it must be Friday as that is the only day Mason does not to attend the club, why? He isn’t sure, perhaps the crowds are just too much.

“Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you Mason but Hannibal is at the bar, he hasn’t requested your presence but I just thought I should make you aware.”

“No problem Cordell, judging by the amount of time he is spending here lately it could be assumed that the Doctor has a secret interest in the activities here… just keep your trusty eye on him for me.” Both Cordell and Mason offered up a chuckle at the aristocrat’s statement, but the time Hannibal was spending in the bar lately had crossed the line into concerning.

“Of course sir, I have also received a phone call from the security company, the twenty five guards due for our external security this evening have been involved in a collision, but the security company are sending replacements on a different coach and they should be arriving only around five minutes late.” 

“Ok, well ensure the company gives me a substantial discount as even one minute late is not acceptable.”

“Of course sir.” Dropping the phone Mason’s attention went right back to his show whilst Cordell’s went back to focusing on their external security, or lack there of as it currently stood.

Cordell waited outside and as promised the replacement coach was sent five minutes after their start time to drop of the night’s security, once every guard was off the coach the exchange from the days security was made and the guards boarded to leave. Cordell spent the next few minutes rushing each guard to their posts before racing back into the bar to locate Hannibal who remained seated in his usual spot, sipping his usual wine. Standing at the furthest corner, Cordell watched the man like a hawk as the room slowly began to fill with the dancers and the nights patrons.

Randall is about to leave his box room on the ground floor but froze slightly when two dark figures approached the frosted window, there was a slight clinking of metal on metal and he assumed the guards were checking the steel bars fixed to the outside of the window as they do every month and thought nothing of it as he turned to leave the room. It was a Friday so the bar was already rammed as it was the night every member attended for the fetish shows, scanning the room there was no sign of Will so Randall took his usual seat at the bar one stool away from Hannibal without acknowledgment.

Tapping his fingers against the crystal wine glass, Hannibal periodically checked his watch and did something he never had before, he stood up to mingle around the busy floor. There was no association with any dancer or patron, just a casual walk through the crowd as Cordell followed with his eyes and then his feet. Every action was with purpose, every few steps the burley butler would lose sight of the Doctor, the vision only became more blurred when the announcer’s speech boomed over the crowd from the sleezy stage. 

Hannibal’s scope of the place had paid off, he had mastered the layout of the building from very limited angles and divulged the constant routine of both the ushers and security, twenty five external armed guards that changed nightly, twenty permanent armed guards scattered throughout the house, and twelve unarmed ushers inside the bar. The bar that held no windows, no fire exits, just one security door used as the entrance, from a flippant onlooker the secured building is fort Knox, but to an eagle eyed person, routine was Mason’s downfall. 

Moving back to the bar Hannibal places his empty wine glass on the bar, its eleven pm, meaning that every member of the club is present, and he has thirty minutes to act. Speaking close to Randall’s ear as he pulled back from setting down the empty glass Hannibal smiled. “It’s time... you have thirty minutes.” With that Hannibal moves to leave the bar, walking out of the door to the foyer of the house, he passes the two external guards either side of the golden poles and moves to the stairs he knows leads the basement. Judging by the pictures Mason showed him, that’s exactly where his interest is being held, Cordell burst through the club door into the foyer demanding the Doctors direction from the two guards, one of which nodded towards the descending stairs.

“Why the hell didn’t you stop him!?” 

“I didn’t realise we were supposed to, my apologises.” The flippant attitude enraged Cordell, the men were here to do a job, each one briefed on the importance of security and who they need to watch before they arrive.

“I will be speaking to the security company about your negligence!” The burley butler is quick to follow Hannibal down the stairs and the second he is no longer in sight, the guard simply smiles cocking his gun.

“I’m sure you will…” Both men laugh as one guard turns to lock the club door, and the second moves to open the front door as he pulls out his walkie-talkie. “Everyone in position?” 

“Rodger that.” 

Walking into the basement Hannibal knew it was once a wine cellar. The most exclusive of vintage wines were once shelved in the wooden racks, trusted to the natural refrigeration of the soil behind the dense stone walls, but now they stood empty. There are ancient brackets for candles every few feet, but it's been so long since they were used that there isn't even any waxy residue on them, it smells musty but in the dim light provided by the single bare bulb that hangs from the ceiling Hannibal can't see any water seeping in. The dust was so thick that it built a layer over everything that was more like fur, or fragments of the old cobwebs that hung from the rafters above, Hannibal stood back against the wall watching as Cordell raced past before halting, apparently waiting for his eyes to adjust to the new dank setting.

“Doctor Lecter!?” Silently stepping forward, Hannibal stilled behind Cordell, pulling out the needle filled to the brim with a powerful sedative. 

“Hello Cordell.” The burley butler didn’t have time to react before the needle point was jammed into the side of his neck, even in the dark Cordell suddenly took on a pale look, as if he'd been painted with white wash, then with one step backwards, he crumpled unconscious to the ground like a puppet suddenly released of its strings.

Randall looks around for Cordell, then locates the ushers before slipping down the corridor in the bar to the bedrooms, he just has to make it through his door unseen.

Out of nowhere the cage is getting smaller, it feels like its crushing him, Will tells himself that he’s imagining the lack of oxygen, he repeats in his mind over and over again ‘I’m in a cage the oxygen is plenty’ Will tells himself it’s an irrational fear, knowing in his mind that he is making everything worse because he’s struggling against the bars. It doesn’t matter what Will is telling himself though because his body is no longer listening to his brain, once again he tries to dispel the rising panic but to no avail. 

The cage is crushing his legs and arms, it’s constricting his chest preventing air reaching his lungs, he is suffocating. The more Will tries to breathe the less space he feels he has, Mason is going to let him suffocate, he’s going to leave him in this cage forever.

Will needs to get out, he needs to get out now. He doesn’t want to die in there.

There's a noise escaping Will’s throat and it doesn’t sound human, but he can't make it stop. It’s a cross between a whining and grunting, realistically he knows he’s in the midst of a panic attack, he knows he needs to calm himself but it’s impossible. Will just needs to get out! Now! The young agent loses any remaining control over his body and begins pushing against the bars, straining his body hard, trying to push the bars away from him as they grip even tighter, Will begins thrashing as much as the small space allows, it doesn’t help! The bars don’t give! 

The scream that rent the air was as good as a siren. Nobody screams like that unless it is terror beyond endurance, it was the kind of sound that made your blood run cold, it pierced the air and ignited some primeval pathway. The hysterical screams jolted Mason, looking over at the cage he knew Will had cracked, the sound wasn’t something anyone could ignore, even him, climbing from the bed he instantly walked over to crouch in front of the cage.

The animalistic sounds Will makes gets louder as his heartbeat pounds in his ears, screaming and crying he’s lost all control. Finally, after what feels like hours of terror Will can hear someone talking to him, but he can't quite make himself listen, he’s hyperventilating too badly.

"Will, stop, you're going to hurt yourself." Will can’t stop pushing his knees hard to the floor trying desperately to stand up, pushing hard against the bars, he really doesn't care if he breaks every bone in his body.

Will needs to get out.

"Will, stop." Masons voice is stern but it doesn’t stem the fight for freedom.

"I want to get out Mason! Please get me out of here! Please! Please! PLEASE!!!!" I CAN’T BREATHE!!”

“Will one of the reasons you are in there is for your behavior, so please don’t make me leave you in there another five days ok?”

The idea of another five days in there was a terrifying thought but still Will can’t stop.

"Will, stop, you're going to hurt yourself.”

"I want to get out Mason please get me out of here!!”

“Shush its ok, you’re ok, listen to me Will, just breathe.”

“Breathe in.” Will tried to breathe in but couldn’t.

“Breathe out, come on Will follow my breathing.”

Will breathed out.

“In.” Finally it felt as though some air made its way into the tightened lungs.

“Out.”

“In.” Breathing is getting a little easier.

“Out.” Good boy that’s it. “Will I don’t like you being in this cage any more than you do, don’t you think I’ve missed playing with my toy? Do you think I like doing all your chores and having to, well let’s say relieve myself because you were a naughty boy? Sometimes Will we all have to do things we don’t like, but this you brought on yourself, but I do know how bad this is for you and its nearly over Will.”

“I miss pleasing you Mason and I’m sorry I put you out with my bad behavior, I know I deserve this... but if you let me out I will be better I promise.” Will would say or do anything by this point, pure desperation had taken over.

“Just calm yourself down and get some rest, then maybe we can think about letting you out of the cage in a day or so.” Will broke into silent sobs as Mason threw the sheet back over the cage and climbed into bed, turning out the lights.

Walking further into the dank space Hannibal heard what he was looking for before he saw it, standing in front of the iron bars used to hold the feral man, the Doctor looked down at his biggest failure, when Mason took the man, he took something Hannibal will never get back. His hair was long and messy caked in grime, dirt was smeared across every inch of the frail skinny body, which was nothing less than he deserved, the soul before him was no longer human. Hannibal watched as the man paced and crawled around the small cell before he looked up, there seemed to be a flicker of recognition and then the screeching started, the sounds akin to a frightened animal.

“This is not how I intended your confinement to end, but the design has been broken… I forgive you.” The moment played out in slow motion, Hannibal pulled the gun from his waist band and fired a single shot into the feral man’s head, the sound was swallowed by the concrete walls and low ceiling, coming out as a deadened thump followed by a wave of grief. A design had been broken, not just any design, but a life’s work… now Misha’s death will never be truly avenged, and there is no forgiveness for that.

Throwing down the gun, Hannibal pulled out a tranquiliser gun made his way back up the stairs.

Finally inside his room, Randall closed the bedroom door behind him and looks puzzled at the now empty window, no bars, no glass, just a bare hole… Hannibal had given him his way out, this was it! Now he can leave and come back for his friend! Stepping on the bed Randall moves to climb through the frame, but steps back down when his foot grazes something solid beneath the sheet. 

Randall smiled as he pulled back the sheet, closing his eyes, he spread his arms and looked to the ceiling, inhaling deeply and for the first time, Randall felt as though he could breathe. A smile spread across his lips as he looked down at Hannibal’s gifts, slowly he ran his fingers over the cool metal of each weapon, the selection laid out in front of him could give an arms dealer a run for their money. 

Picking up the automatic rifle gave Randall something he had been without for years, a true way out, a way out of his prison, a way out of his hatred, but most importantly a way out of being a victim any longer. 

There were two automatics in total, four handguns, both with tons of rounds, there were three hunting knives and a machete that had had Mason’s name all over it. Randall thought the vest harness to carry each implement of death was a nice touch from Hannibal, right now there is nothing but excitement coursing through his veins, Every club member and dancer is present on a Friday night and after his time there Randall has forcefully been with most, some were sicker than the others but each one was cruel. 

Randall quickly realises that Hannibal had given him a way to avenge his own suffering, and a way to save those who deserved to be saved. Picking up the harness was a grounding moment in itself, for the first time in so long his body was somewhat covered, carefully and quickly Randall attached each weapon to the intended loop, smiling as he did. Just as the last weapon was attached Randall pulled the straps tight and grazed the side of the harness, it was a pocket… he had pockets! Reaching inside the left supplied him with a note from Hannibal, ‘you are responsible for your own choices.’ In the second a bag of cheesy puffs.

Opening the packet of treats Randall placed one in his mouth and placed the rest in the pocket of the harness before placing the watch on his wrist and moved to pick up an automatic in each hand, finally he stepped towards the door…

Will tries to keep his sobs silenced, not daring to wake up Mason, he tries but fails to get some sleep numerous amounts of times but it is impossible, the pain of the position doesn’t allow it, so instead he keeps his eyes closed and attempts to calm himself before his ‘snivelling’ wakes up the sadistic man. Will isn’t sure how long passes but one small clicking sound and his eyes are open, waking to the sound of breathing that isn't his own, and isn’t Mason’s, he listens, still trembling when he hears feet lightly brushing against the floor. 

Will knows it isn’t Cordell, or any other worker for that matter, Mason is very private of his bedroom and cherishes his sleep, so no one would dare to enter the room and wake him. After so long of this life every action is automatic, reflexive, efficient and Will’s heart pounds as the steps etch closer to the cage, he strains into the utter darkness and can’t help the light sniffling sounds that escape his mouth.

When the blanket is pulled back Will freezes, he strains his eyes in the darkness but can’t lift his head high enough to make out the dark figure, a small click of the lock and the cage door opens before the figure stands and quietly walks away. Carefully, and quietly, Will crawls from the cage, his limbs crack and joints pop at the sudden freedom from the bars, he stands frozen as the figure moves beside Mason and presses something to his mouth.

A click of the lamp illuminates the room in mild light and Hannibal’s face comes into view.

“Hello Will.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Randall finally have their freedom but at what cost?
> 
> What is Hannibal's plans for Mason?
> 
> This chapter depicts a pretty brutal rampage, so expect some gore! You have been warned, this chapter didn't come out as well as I had hoped but I do hope that it is enjoyed...
> 
> Going forward the last chapters will be more of a Will/Hannibal shipping as opposed to a Will/Mason....
> 
> A big thank you to everyone and anyone still following the story especially to those who have left a comment and a kudo it is appreciated and I hope you enjoy the story going forward!

“W-what are you doin-” Will’s question is halted when an unmistakable crack rent the air, he had been in the FBI long enough to know a gunshot when he heard one. From the loudness he estimated the shooting was less than sixty feet away, specifically, it was coming from the bar. More worryingly the rapidity of the shots suggested something automatic, either this was a guard shooting a trespasser or they were in serious trouble. 

Will noted that Hannibal didn’t even flinch, just continued holding the facemask attached to some metal canister against Mason’s mouth, he guesses some sort of sedative as the aristocrat didn’t even flinch, remaining asleep through the noise of the shots and Hannibal’s touch. 

“T-the guards will shoot you if they find you in here.” Will moved his hands in a vain attempt to cover himself, not wanting to be completely exposed to the man.

“For the next thirty minutes the guards will not be an issue.” Hannibal placed the canister and mask back in his pocket before removing his jacket and took a step towards Will who took an instinctive step back, when Hannibal moved again, slower this time, Will froze slightly and allowed the man to wrap the jacket around his shoulders.

“Is that who’s shooting?”

“No, could you help me a moment please?” Will watched as Hannibal stepped out of the bedroom door and promptly returned with a serving trolley draped with a white sheet, moving back to the bed Hannibal pulled back the sheet and grasped Mason under each arm, looking over expectantly at Will as he remained frozen to the spot, shaking his head.

“N-no… if he wakes up and sees me helping you he will kill me.”

“Mason will not be waking up anytime soon, I gave him a strong dose of a sedative that will keep him unconscious for at least three hours, you have my word.” Will stood frozen for a few more seconds before moving forward to grasp Mason’s ankles, if Hannibal takes the vile man away then maybe he will have an actual chance of escaping this hell hole. Together they lifted the blacked out aristocrat onto the dolly and Hannibal rearranged the sheet over the top so the man could not be seen.

“Thank you, if you would like to get out of this place then you have around fifty eight minutes to do so, I am happy to give you a ride somewhere if you need one.” 

“There is no way out… guards cover every inch of this place inside and out, if they see either of us they will shoot on sight.” When another loud crack rent the air, followed by a flood of screams, Will stilled, the shots cant be aimed at a single trespasser there were too many, his guess was Hannibal hadn’t come alone, and whoever he had brought with him were taken out one by one.

The thoughts of murder and mutiny had plagued Randall’s mind for years now, his imagination had offered up the most foul of scenarios that he wanted to bestow upon the men that had hurt him, sadly though they were just that… wishful thinking. But today those thoughts enter reality, and Randall smiled to himself gleefully as he felt the plastic handle of the machete tucked into the loop of the harness, side by side with the hunting knife. The blades would be held back and used to inflicted the most horrific of wounds than the guns ever could, he would save them for the worst of the worst, the ones that had tortured him and others for their own sexual gratification and now, retribution was coming for those actions. 

Randall turned from the mirror in his room, enjoying the slight breeze from the now vacant window and stepped across the clean expanse of wood flooring to the door, inhaling deeply as he did. Randall wouldn’t use the term ‘murder’ for what he was about to do, no, that word was reserved for psychopaths who killed for no other reason than fun. Randall had his reasons, and his pending fun was justified, if killing was done for means of survival then no one thought any less of you, when it is necessary to remove evil most never lost a wink of sleep over it, and that's pretty much where Randall sits.

Never had Randall been good enough, never enough, he was never sufficient enough in any aspect of his life to fit into any person’s ideals, inside or outside these walls. That was the true story of his life, anything and everything he was, it was never good enough… he was just a victim, a toy, an object to be used, and Randall distantly wondered why those aspects even mattered to him? He had always hated himself anyway though, ever since he was young, he hated himself for being human so why do their opinions even matter? But they did… he hated them for how they made him feel, so now he doesn’t want to feel anything anymore and that is a dangerous state of mind to reach.

But all would be remedied now. 

A smile slid onto his face.

It’s showtime…

Reaching into his pocket Randall popped a few cheesy puffs into his mouth and walked out of his bedroom, the moment played out in slow motion, he held an automatic rifle in each hand as he slowly walked back into the crowded bar. The patrons and dancers are all around, scattered in every direction possible as they revelled in the degradation, not one man seemed to notice the walking weapon, they were too busy enjoying the filth their money had bought them. 

Randall looked over the scene for the last time, a thousand sickening memories flooded his mind when he looked over each patrons face and rising his arms, Randall pulled each trigger of the automatic weapons and the shots came thick like winter hail, the mass projectiles cut through the now silent air. Each one rips into something, be it inanimate or living as it flies out the chamber and into the air with great elegance, the bullet aims for the target beyond the shooter and triumphs with an explosion of flesh when it hits. 

It was in that moment of absolute stillness God tipped the balance to Randall, the chatter died, the music ceased to play, even the rumble of movement was absent. In those frozen few seconds even the ice within the expensive liquor seemed to halt, there was silence for only a moment, until every person in the room rapidly realised what was happening. The screams came next, followed by the fleeting footsteps that ran for the one and only reinforced door, their only exit that had long since been locked. Next came the fear as countless bodies pushed against the door that wouldn’t budge, they were animals trapped inside a room of their own making, about to die by the voluntary choices each one had made.

Randall watches on and allows the fear in the room consume him, every scream, every panicked shout took him right back to his own pleas, his begging for the pain to stop as his torturer just became more and more aggressive. When the triggers are pulled again people dive for cover, every table and chair is used in a vain attempt to protect their pathetic flesh and Randall quickly realised that not only is the door is locked, there are no guards firing back either, and his window is missing. Those aspects tell him that this has gone from a suicide mission, to a take down, Randall assumed he would be shot by the guards at some point during his rampage but he didn’t care so long as he took a few down with him, but no, clearly he has outside help.

Upon realising there was no exit it dawned on a few men it was kill or be killed, so the most arrogant ones charged at Randall with nothing more than a broken bottle, he laughed hysterically when they barely made it a footstep before the splay of bullets erupt from the barrel and explode through their internal structure and organs. The rapid bullets hit each target with extreme precision using only a slight turn of the wrist, each one tore effortlessly through the soft human tissue, allowing the arteries to split and drop each man like a lead weight. 

This is where the fun starts for Randall, the screaming pleading upon realisation there is no way out other than mercy.

Each shot brought back Randall’s pain, it was as if each man were still buried in his guts, as if his blood was still trickling from deep inside him as his insides burned, his stomach lurched at the thought, it was rape induced PTSD that altered him not only mentally, but physically for the rest of his life. Climbing to stand on a table Randall looks around the room, smiling down at the cowards hiding behind anything they could, some even used the struggling dancers to cover their pathetic flesh, that action alone makes them nothing less than scum.

“The chase is on my dears and I will find you!! I will hunt you all down like the vermin you are and exterminate every single one of you!!! Don't think you can evade me by way of a fucking table or chair! You are already in my cross hairs… I have a bullet made for some of you, and a blade for the rest! And I am going to love it, every second of it... So run, hide, cower! But you are trapped in a solid box my pets and I promise you not only death, but a painful end beyond measure.” Randall’s voice was not his usual pitch, instead it was calm, dead in it’s monotone whilst slightly robotic. Kicking a glass from the table the sound echoed in the now deadly silent club, only the occasional sob or groan from the dying could be heard, and it sent waves of static right down Randall’s spine.

“So don't even think about asking for mercy now! I begged for it from men that never learnt the meaning of the word! I will feel joy when your light is extinguished from this vile world… and all your families are going to learn who you truly were and what you did!! But by my hand you will never be able to explain your sins! They will be the ones to live in grief… all because of you! So let that be your dying thought! Is your heart pounding yet? Are your feet burning to run? Are you panicked to know there is nowhere you can go!? You are all going to die today, and burn in the pits of hell for what you did!!”

There are times that a retreat from conflict is bravery, not cowardice. Sometimes it takes fortitude to backtrack, to let the enemy take ground and find another route around to eventual victory, so for the patrons or dancers to proceed in an attempt to take Randall down in this current time would be foolishness considering the positions they hold, so no other man tried, instead they cowered. Randall remained standing on the table looking over each terrified face, the sight was nothing less than a dose of pure adrenalin and the only movement that could be heard in that moment was the shuffling from behind the bar. 

Stepping over onto the next table Randall looked down and caught sight of Franklyn squeezing himself through a small door used to discard crates of empty bottles, he watched on in amusement as the chubby man was wedged up to his butt between the small square frame, after what seemed like a lifetime and some serious effort on Franklyn’s part, the remainder of his body slipped through the small frame and Randall smiled when he heard the small door close and lock behind Franklyn. 

After a few moments of laughter Randall popped a few more cheesy puffs into his mouth and used his position on the table as a scope to decide who would die first, leaving the rest for a more painful ending. Pulling the triggers once more the bullets explode in rapid fire, taking down whatever Randall aimed at, the slaughter of chosen vermin didn’t take long and finally Randall jumped down from the table to begin a slow walk around the club, half the members now lay dead, half of the dancers there by choice that had a hand in his punishments were now laid dead, but the remaining survivors lay curled in the foetal position hiding anywhere they could.

Bullets now cover the floor of the club, the cheapest way by far to dispatch a human being. For less than a cent you can kill someone irreplaceable, you can take someone off the earth permanently, be the one their surviving families nightmares lead to. Randall bends to the floor and picks up a single bullet, so light, so cold, he turns it in the neon lights of the club and smiles before letting it fall back to the floor, right beside the first corpse he took out, looking at the chest wound it is somewhat ragged around the edges but barely bleeding even, so the exit wound must be on his back somewhere, if it weren't for that hole, he could be asleep.

This feeling was the best high, and the smoothest drug is without a doubt, killing. No wonder this is illegal he thinks, if only everyone knew how great it is. Every time Randall stops to reload, he sees a little bit of reality, the panic, the horror in the remaining peoples faces, but it’s not like he cares. Randall gave a quick head count and estimates there are around thirty people left alive in the room, half consisted of dancers that were just as cruel as patrons in their attempts to get what they wanted, the other half consisted of the most vile patrons. That was it, his plan had come to fruition and he had the worst of the worst exactly where he wanted them and now it was time for them to suffer their sins.

Hooking the automatics back to the harness Randall pulled out both handguns and popped a few more cheesy puffs into his mouth as he waded around the room and shot every remaining survivor he wanted to in their legs and kneecaps, running wouldn’t allow him to carry out what was intended. 

“HELP!!” Randall smiled when the wounded screamed in their last attempts for assistance, assistance that wasn’t coming.

No one is coming to help you Randall thinks.

Randall moved to grab both the hunting knife and machete, twisting them in the spotlights of the club as if heaven itself was shining it’s beacon of rays down onto the glistening metal, the blades were strong and jagged, designed to inflicted the most grievous of harm. Randall could already see the victims in a pool of darkening blood and his face split into a grin that arced in a sickly way, never making it all the way to his demented eyes. Somehow the weapons gave Randall pleasure to end the life of a millionaire with something so cheap and mass produced, it would slice through their expensive tailored suits into the dirty flesh below, and for a moment he was lost, imagining the blood flooding out like thick crude oil.

Randall turned it over in his hands, feeling the weight of it, it was time this tool lived up to its promise, walking up to the first man still grasping his blown out knee Randall swipes down with the knife and gives him a stab to the stomach, bringing his arm back up he begins to bring the knife down in fast chaotic strikes. Randall strikes every inch of the man as his hands rise to cover his face, screaming out he curls up into a ball as the psychotic dancer continues to frantically stab, until finally he stops moving, stops screaming. After a few more for good luck, Randall pulls out the blade with a sort of tearing noise, muscle really is rougher than he thought.

As Randall moved again a slew of horrific screaming rent the air, what was once silent muffled sobs became polluted with pure terror as the wounded tried in vain to drag themselves away. A rough swipe of the blade slit open two more throats of the ones almost dead from blood loss, the realisation they were beginning to bleed out from their blown out limbs only has Randall moving to each victim quicker, he wanted to inflict pain, they didn’t deserve to bleed out calmly, it was a mercy he would not permit. 

Straddling the next man’s chest Randall smiled when he was too weak to pull his arms from beneath the restraining legs that pinned them to the floor, the knife was brought down into his face, the blade met flesh, soft and pudgy, and made a satisfying crack as the tip of the blade sank deep enough into the facial bones to make Randall’s victim scream, he twisted the blade in his hands as the final blow pierced the neck all the while slowly sinking deeper and deeper, the noise of the skin tearing to shreds only got louder as the knife rotated.

Randall smiled as he walked up to the remaining two offending dancers huddled together beside the bar, he allowed them a moment to beg and plead for their lives as they clutched their legs to their chests. Taking one more step their arms moved to clasp over their heads, unwilling to watch as Randall brought down the machete to the backs of their necks, death was instant as both heads rolled a few inches away from the now limp bodies.

The final three patrons were the worst of the worst, all three had enjoyed the show of Randall been strapped to the rack, even requesting it as a private show, they would mock and laugh as he was tortured for hours and now it was their turn. The hunting knife was re-harnessed as the machete would be the star of this show, without warning Randall charged at the first, diving on his back as he brought the machete down in violent chopping motions. Laughing hysterically Randall hacked at the limbs repeatedly, severing them from the body, again and again until the shiny metal had disappeared inside the flesh and the black handle was buried deep within the broken skin before moving onto the next man to repeat the action. 

Their cries were a soothing sound, guttural chokes mixed with an agonized roar. Randall smirked, and pressed a foot to the second man’s back as he pulled the long blade out of his now deathly white victim. The third didn’t attempt to pull himself away, already seemingly accepting of what was about to happen to him, but he continued to scream, convulsing and trembling like a rabid animal as Randall began to hack at the man’s chest and face, thick blood began to flow freely from the gaping holes the blade had caused. The cascade of the man’s blood gushed out in all directions, scarlet liquid squirting up and all over Randall, he finally rose to his feet and stepped back as his pleas for mercy became quieter, until they fizzled into nothing… the sweet tang of blood tingling in Randall’s nostrils as he looked around the room.

Walking up to the last five dancers that had been huddled behind a booth together was a triumph for Randall, in his mind these were the only five that deserved to live, they had never ratted anyone out for their own gain, they were never mocking or unkind just because they could be, and at one time or another each one had bought Randall food or drink when he had his money or privileges taken away and extended hands of comfort when he or Will had needed it.

“R-Randall… please don’t…” 

“Go to my room, my window is missing and the guards outside are on our side.” The five dancers looked shocked but only hesitated for a moment before jumping to their feet and ran towards Randall’s room.

Looking down at his watch Randall knows he has around forty minutes to find both Cordell and Mason, he walks to the bolted door and stops in front of one of the long mirrors beside the bar. There was only a slight pang of guilt when he looked at himself sprayed with blood, he had the right motives and the right mindset, but the wrong emotion. Randall now realises that he probably should have removed all emotion from his decision making, and he may have gone to unmerited extents, he punished the right people, but to the wrong extent, maybe there had been a few dancers that didn’t deserve what they got.

In front of the mirror, he sees his reflection, and he scowls at the collection of scars his body shows, there are more lines than a subway map. The lines encase him, entrap him, and he knows perfectly well whose fault they are. Everyone’s but his… the scars are deep in most places, faint in others, but no matter their depth the blades had passed through his skin for the joy of others, it had been quite possibly the sickest stage show the house offered up. Strapping up a dancer on stage to be fucked by multiple men as they were cut with blades, every time a blade was brought across the dancers skin they would scream, it only made the men fuck faster and the audience groan louder as their slaves pleasured them to the show.

Walking to the club door, Randall knocked a couple of times and smiled at the ‘guard’ that opened it for him. 

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

Walking up the first set of steps Randall popped a few more cheesy puffs in his mouth with a smile and took hold of the automatic once more, he whistled as he pushed open the door into the hallway and raised his weapon rapidly when a man froze mid run. 

“Oh hey Franklyn! How are you? I must say I never thought I would see the day that you could squeeze through a door that small.” Randall propped the weapon back against his shoulder and smiled widely at the chubby man as he chewed the treats from Hannibal. 

“U-uh… urm, I-I’m ok Randall… a little terrified… but aside from that I’m good, h-how are you?” Franklyn desperately tried to hide how fearful he was, he could control the tremor in his voice to a degree, he could partially will his body tremors to be less obvious and he could make himself smile somewhat, even if it did look pasted on. But his perspiration was a law unto itself and in no time at all there were two darkly staining patches under each armpit, Franklyn didn’t want to set Randall off in any way, and given how unstable the dancer was even showing fear could do that.

“Yeah… I’m doing good thank you! I think I cut my finger on my knife though… and I had to throw a cheesy puff away because I got blood on it and I wasn’t sure if the blood was mine or someone else’s, so like obviously I didn’t want to be eating someone else’s blood, do you think that will get infected?” Randall held out his finger to show Franklyn a small wound, a little confused as to why the man looked so scared of him, he liked Franklyn, they were friends, so the reception from the man was a little confusing.

“Uh… no, I-I think that should be ok if you clean it up… and maybe a band-aid or something.” Franklyn avoids any sudden movement by clenching his fists so tightly the nails dig hard into the palm of his hand, but he barely notices when they begin to cut the skin. The only thing he is acutely aware of, is the sound of his own heart throbbing against the cage of his chest, seemingly waiting and bracing for a bullet that he is sure is coming.

“That’s good… well I don’t have long to finish my spree so I better get going! Do you know where Mason is?” Randall looked down at the rapidly ticking wristwatch, he really wishes he had more than an hour, but he isn’t about to be ungrateful.

“U-upstairs I think…” 

“Ok thanks Franklyn! You may want to get home now… thanks for everything!”

“U-urm yeah, I-I will. T-thanks Randall.” Franklyn stood wide eyed when Randall ran past down the hallway to climb the second set of steps, looking down at himself Franklyn wasn’t quite sure at what point he had urinated himself, but he didn’t have time to question that right now and took off running in the opposite direction to the unstable assassin.

Reaching the elevator on the third floor Will’s entire body broke out into trembles as Hannibal pushed the dolly through the doors, the shots seemed to have stemmed in the bar, but occasionally one rang out in different areas of the house. Will knows if he steps onto that elevator there is a good chance there are an array of guards waiting at the bottom, but remaining where he was didn’t seem to be a good option either. Hannibal stalled before walking into the elevator, seeming witnessing and understand Will’s fear, they can’t stall for long though, the actual guards would arrive at the home soon and Hannibal knows that isn’t the only concern, Randall had obviously finished in the bar and he had told the guards to open the doors once the shots seized and knew he was coming for the remaining two people responsible for his pain, Mason and Cordell.

Hannibal had orchestrated the plan from every angle and he was adamant that he would have longer to get out of the house before Randall had finished, by this point though every patron was likely dead, and probably most of the dancers too, but them choices belonged to Randall not him. Hannibal also assumes that every actual guard and usher in the house was now dead by the hands of the hired, so Randall can have the patrons, he can have the cruel dancers and Cordell, but Mason was his. 

Stepping back out of the elevator and back in front of Will, Hannibal attempts to reassure him once more that no one is waiting for them, he doesn’t want to leave the young agent there if he doesn’t have to, because it had always being fifty fifty as to whether or not he would even be able to help Will, he didn’t know for a fact that he slept in Mason’s room, and he made no plans to search room to room either because given the time scale, he didn’t have the time. 

Hannibal was there for two reasons, one to destroy his own captive that Mason had taken, and two, to take Mason, Randall’s rampage was simply a means to end in a plan that had the added benefit of extinguishing the worst of society and giving the tortured dancer his freedom back, so if Hannibal hadn’t been able to save Will, then Randall would have.

“Will, we have to leave now ok? Everything is timed and we don’t have the luxury of stalling.”

“But what if they are waiting for us downstairs?”

“They won’t be.” It didn’t take long for Hannibal’s assumption to become a reality, so he quickly turned and pressed the button sending Mason and the dolly down in the elevator just as Randall burst through the door. 

“Will!!” Randall ran and gave the shell shocked Will a hug before turning to shake a smiling Hannibal’s hand.

“Randall what the hell are you doing??” Will’s brain stutters for a moment as his eyes take in Randall’s blood covered form, every inch of him was crimson, splattered over the vest that held every weapon imaginable. Every part of Will goes on pause whilst his thoughts catch up, his mind was sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process the images that was being sent by his eyes, for a moment he looked away, giving a slight shake of the head then looked back to see if the image was still there. It was.

“I am tearing shit up!!” Randall stood proud, hopping excitedly from one foot to the other clearly unashamed by his own actions, instead he was deliriously happy, giddy even. The excitement wired his body like he was plugged into the mains, it felt as though his brain was on fast-forward and Will quickly realised Randall’s heightened state was a psychotic episode, but this time he had weapons.

“Was that you shooting in the bar!?”

“Yup! Wanna cheesy puff?” Popping three of the snacks into his mouth, Randall smiled widely at the shell shocked Will, he was happy to see his friend as it had been nearly a week. But given that he saw Cordell carry a dog cage up the stairs he knew that was the reason for Will’s absence as he had suffered weeks at a time in that thing… Randall had missed the young agents presence, it was lonely without him. 

“No, I-I’m ok thanks Randall… where did you get those weapons??” Will isn’t really sure why he is asking a question that he already knows the answer to.

“Are you having fun Randall?” Hannibal’s smile at Randall was nothing less than satisfaction, as if having completed some deep, personally needed action, the joy seemed to be expressed by the slightest curve at the mouth's corner and a confidence worn in a light raise of the eyebrow. That was the first time Will had ever seen Hannibal offer up a genuine smile, it almost transformed him from someone menacing to someone you wished you knew, but the evil intent behind the smirk took him right back to a beacon of evil.

“Hell yeah I am!”

“Randall, come on we have to get out of here.” Will stepped forward to grasp Randall’s wrist but wasn’t all that surprised when he jumped back with a smile, there is no reasoning with a break from reality.

“Fuck that I have thirty minutes left and I need to find Mason and Cordell! Have you seen them??” 

“Mas-”

“Cordell is unconscious in the basement, and we were just looking for Mason, I suspect he has fled after hearing the shots, so I would suggest that you deal with Cordell first Randall.” Hannibal cut Will off before Mason’s whereabouts were revealed, happy that Randall seemingly accepted the suggestion.

“Yeah I guess…!”

“Randall please just come with us ok?” Will didn’t want to leave his friend behind, but there was no talking to Randall when he was in the grips of a psychotic episode. Insanity had stolen his mind like a deranged thief many times by this point, and when it happened people knew to run, the psychosis added new dangerous ideas, but instead of them being a fantasy he can now do something about it, and clearly he was taking that given option.

“Don’t worry about me Will! I will see you soon ok? love you! And thanks Hannibal I owe you big time!”

“You are welcome Randall, good luck.” Randall offered up another hug to Will before turning to run back down the stairs in search of the burley butler, but the second he reached the ground floor the same guard that opened the door for him raised his weapon seemingly aiming at Randall’s head. Ducking slightly the guard pulled the trigger and Randall turned to witness an usher crumple to the ground, laughing hysterically at the action Randall popped another cheesy puff into his mouth before continuing his descent down the basement steps, if he can deal with Cordell quickly he may have time to look for Mason.

Calling the elevator back Will didn’t hesitate to follow Hannibal inside this time, but when the doors closed behind them Will’s body vibrated harder at the situation, every part of the evening felt surreal, as though he would wake up in the cage at any point. Hannibal was the one that had orchestrated this entire thing, and he had used Randall to help, he didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing but he now knows this was the secret that Randall couldn’t tell him in the bar. Will guesses the only positive to Hannibal manipulating Randall into shooting up the bar, is the fact that he would have spared the dancers… surely?

Putting that situation aside for a moment though, what was the next plan? They get outside and then what? Between Randall and the men Hannibal brought they must have taken out most, if not all the houses guards by this point, but should he really be accepting help from a man that in his mind was just as bad as Mason? Afterall the only reason Hannibal was there is to reclaim a man that he owned, so would he be any different, or has the Doctor got similar intentions for him?

The relief was instant when the elevator doors didn’t open to a circle of armed guards, but now Will realises he had two choices, follow the man or stay within the confines of the home, neither were a good option, but right now Hannibal was the lesser of two evils, and, all he has to do is get outside. 

Walking into the foyer Will stilled when he saw two armed ‘guards’ stood at the open front door, but as Hannibal continued to push the dolly neither one reached for their weapon, so Will assumes they are some of the men Hannibal clearly recruited. 

When a couple more steps were taken towards freedom, Will froze for an entirely different reason, a cursory glance to the left showed the open doors of the club and he finally caught sight of Randall’s rampage, it was total carnage, bodies on top of bodies, and a thick river of blood covered every inch of the floor as it seeped through the severed limbs and broken furniture. 

There wasn’t a moment of sadness for the corpses that lay slain, they were very, very sick men, and Will didn’t judge Randall’s vengeance, or him putting a stop to them harming others, but when he caught sight of the dancers laid slain in the same position, there was an overwhelming wave empathetic nausea. Some were assholes yes, but they were only doing what they could to try and survive an evil existence, and they didn’t deserve what Randall had bestowed upon them… what Hannibal had bestowed upon them.

Hannibal was well aware of Randall’s instability, he knew the troubled soul would shoot anyone on sight when given the means to do so, and there was no way Randall could take any emotion out of his decision making when it came to deserving lives, a psychotic episode wouldn’t permit that. With each bloody sight his eyes offered him, Will’s stomach tightened and ached all the more, he kept swallowing but could still taste the vomit at the back of his mouth. This was all wrong, should he leave Randall there or go back and drag him from the house? Randall isn’t well, he needs help, but Hannibal exploited that and a Doctor’s oath, it enraged Will.

Hannibal caught sight of Will’s internal trauma and for the first time he placed a gentle hand behind his neck to nudge him forward, away from the horrific scene, Will followed the guiding hand before lightly shrugging it away from his skin and looked anywhere but at the brutal scene, with another well of rising sadness for the ones that shouldn’t have been taken. 

Both guards took a none threatening step towards Hannibal and Will, but every attention was pulled rapidly when Franklyn ran past all four at full speed, not even looking back as he took off through the front door and down the lawn. Each man watched in amusement as Franklyn attempted to run, tripping twice as he did, the man is larger than life, personality oozing out of every pore, and a good word for everyone, but running was not his strong suit.

“How many people made it?” Hannibal quizzed the two guards as they continued to watch Franklyn in amusement, but followed behind when he pushed the dolly out of the front door. 

“There were five dancers that exited through Randall’s window, and each claimed that he spared them, there is also that chubby guy trying to scale the fence, but I’m not sure if he was spared or missed though.” Both guards looked slightly amused as Franklyn tried to climb the netted steel fence without ever making it an inch off the ground, when Will saw the apparent guard reach for his gun his heart skipped a beat. There was no way that Randall would ever go after Franklyn, Will knew he had been spared, and wouldn’t stand there and allow the guard to take him out.

“That’s Franklyn, he was spared... Randall wouldn’t hurt him.” Will exhaled in relief when the man shrugged and re-holstered his weapon.

“Ok, well the surviving dancers are in the coach, we will drop them somewhere safe… so the only people left alive in the house is the little psychopath with the vest of weapons, and the lard ass that you followed into the basement, I will go and get tubs on the fence over there and get him on the coach as it won’t take long for the actual replacement security to arrive.”

“Thank you gentlemen your services have been appreciated this evening, the remainder of the payment will arrive in the requested account within the hour.” Hannibal shook the man’s hand and began to push the dolly toward his car with Will still following close behind, he isn’t sure why though, why is he following Hannibal and not getting on that coach?

“Appreciated Hannibal… HEY BUBBLE BUTT GET ON THE DAMN COACH! YOU COULDN’T EVEN SCALE STAIRS!” Both guards snorted out a laugh as they walked towards the panicked Franklyn to get him into the coach so they could leave, but still in his panicked state he continued his attempt at climbing the fence without even making it an inch off the ground. When the guards etched closer Franklyn took to running, but being chased was nothing like the movies, and certainly not in this instant, the stars look heroic, sexy, and in command of the situation, but reality was far removed from that pretty version of running to save your skin which is what the chubby man was trying to do. 

Franklyn cried aloud when the two guards took to a light sprint, it was all that was needed to catch the man, but Franklyn threw himself forward with even greater abandon. His lungs and heart pumped, but the air didn't seem to be enough as he sprinted forward, panic trembling in his exhausted limbs as they finally caught up to him at the locked gates. From a distance Will noticed a few apparent words calmed Franklyn enough to walk onto the coach voluntarily, but still he questioned why he wasn’t on it, he just prays the men will take the survivors somewhere safe.

Reaching his car Hannibal wasn’t careful when he tipped the dolly, spilling the still unconscious Mason onto the ground. Opening the trunk, Hannibal looked expectantly at Will as he once again took Mason under the arms and waited for Will to grab his feet and lift him inside. For a moment Will stills and looks back at the house, the winter breeze has a way of moving his hair, it carries with it the fragrance of earth and even though he is surround by freezing temperatures he doesn’t care, the coldness upon his face is refreshing, because it means one thing, freedom. 

It had been so long since Will had been outside on his feet, free from leashes and collars, it was something he never thought he would see again, but with that comes a fear… is he about to be taken captive once more? Will looks back at the coach as it drives through the now open gate and regrets not being on it.

Walking to the passenger side door Hannibal opens it as an offer for Will to climb inside, but instead of moving forward, he steps back, away from his fear. “Will I have to leave now, you are welcome to come and I will take you wherever you want to go, but it has to be now.”

“Where is the man that Mason took from you?”

“He is dead.”

“Did Mason kill him?”

“No, I did.”

“So you are as bad as Mason… no thanks I will find my own way out of here.”

“Ok, that is your choice, but be warned there are over thirty actual armed guards on their way here now, and the nearest town on foot is three hours away, the night will be very cold.” Hannibal moves to the driver’s side door but doesn’t close the passenger side, he understands Will’s apprehensions, if he were in his position then he would feel the same, but he doesn’t have the time to wait, so if he has to leave Will behind then he will.

“W-what about Randall?” Hannibal doesn’t answer, just simply climbs in the car and starts the ignition, Will looks back once more before moving to climb in the car, he is out of options. The coach has gone, the guards are on their way, and Hannibal was right, the night was cold and in an hour’s time it would be below freezing and he has on only a jacket, so it’s the car, or freezing to death.

Walking into the basement Randall smiled down at the unconscious burley butler, pulling out the packet he finished off the remaining cheesy puffs before opening his second packet and placed them back in his pocket. Using his foot Randall nudged Cordell a few times, continuing the action until he slowly began to writhe, when the man didn’t rouse quick enough, Randall gave a swift, albeit rough kick to his groin and Cordell woke with a shout, grasping himself as he looked up at the tortured dancer looking down on him. Within seconds the man rose on unsteady feet, reaching out, he was about to grab Randall before he stood up straight and came eye to eye with the barrel of the automatic rifle and a smiling face.

“Hello Cordell!” Turning the gun, Randall used the butt of the weapon to strike Cordell between the eyes, dazing him for a moment as he stumbled backwards. 

“What the fuck do you think you are doing Randall!?” Stepping forward Cordell once again froze when Randall raised the weapon higher, aiming right between the eyes.

“I have waited for this moment for a very long time Cordell! Now turn around and walk!!”

“Randall don’t be stup-”

“WALK!! Me and you are going to spend some quality time together! I always fantasied about how I would punish you and today… I get to see it.” Slowly Cordell began to walk up the steps of the basement, every time he slowed the barrel was forced into his spine, reaching the foyer Cordell looked out for the guards, it would only take one to take Randall down but his stomach churned when he looked into the clubs wide open doors.

The sight coupled with the lack of guards had his fear levels rising, what the hell was happening.

“R-Randall we can talk about this ok? It was never anything personal!”

“Well this is personal pig! Keeping walking! I didn’t tell you to stop!” Walking through the house Randall guided the man’s direction with the barrel of the gun until they reached the back door and he caught sight of the collar and leash on the hook beside it. “Get on your knees Cordell.” 

“Randall…”

“KNEES!!!” Slipping on the collar and leash Randall used his foot to shoo the man forward, making him crawl on his hands and knees across the lawn all the way to the farm. It really didn’t take Cordell long to figure out exactly what Randall had in mind, there was a slew of emotions but the one he focused on was the fear for what was to come. 

How the hell had this happened? How had they been infiltrated so badly… and then it hit, Hannibal. 

Standing outside the pen that held the rack, Randall opened the gate and shooed the man inside, pressing the barrel of the gun against the hunched over spine when Cordell refused to crawl. Walking over to the machine Randall looked down at it, every image of him being strapped to it flashed before his eyes forcing a lone tear down his cheek, the sounds of his own screams echoed in his ears as he ran a finger down the cool metal of the torturous contraption. Taking hold of the support weights Randall dislodged them from the rack, the two support weights held the pigs weight well away from any dancer that was strapped to it, although sometimes Randall had wished they hadn’t been there, for the lack of their presence would have relieved him from this horrific life.

“It’s time for your punishment Cordell.”

“No… Randall please I’m begging you don’t do this! Please don’t.” Crouching down beside the burley butler Randall exhaled loudly and allowed the man’s fear to wash over him, he smiled as he got good and close to Cordell’s ear.

“That’s exactly what I said to you… it didn’t get me anywhere though did it Cordell?” When the man still didn’t move Randall slowly pulled the blade down the expanse of the man’s back. “Get on the rack or I am going to cut your dick off and cram it down your fucking throat!!” Finally Cordell crawled into place, his entire body wracked with tremors as Randall pulled the restraints tight, strapping him in place.

Taking hold of Cordell’s clothing Randall cut each item away from his body before moving to open the juveniles pig pen, most of the animals were pretty trained in what to do by this point, so Randall watched with a smile as each large animal fought to mount the man. Their size and weight was enough to be painful but not enough to cause any real damage, no, the adult pigs pen will be opened when Randall is done enjoying the show.

As the full realisation, and the consequence of his misdemeanour's finally sank in, the pit of Cordell’s stomach stirred from the very depths of his being, all that flowed was terror as the first pig mounted him, echoed with a slew of groaning that flowed passed his lips, it became a cry of confession, a wail reaching out for mercy.

Finally pulling out of the gates was an immense relief, finally Will was away from that house, but is he about to be taken to another captive setting? Pulling the jacket tighter around himself the feeling of fabric against his skin was now an alien feeling, it had been so long since he had been in anything other than a pair of skimpy shorts. 

“Is there anywhere in particular that you would like me to take you Will?” Thinking for a moment Will realised there really wasn’t anywhere he could be taken, after all this time he assumes the house he moved into in Wolf Trap was probably cleared out after his disappearance. That leaves him with the cops, but the thought of that reared nothing but shame, he had been originally transferred to Wolf Trap because he was the loser agent that couldn’t even fire a weapon when the situation required just that. So now what? Now he’s going to be the FBI agent that couldn’t even save himself from being abducted? The rape victim? It’s just an added shame that Will isn’t sure that he can cope with.

“I can take you to the hospital? Or to the police if you would rather?”

“No. I don’t know where you can take me, I don’t think my place will still be my place... but you would know more about that than me.” Hannibal knew the home Will was supposed to be staying in was now cleared out, all his things were in storage and his dogs were currently in the care of another FBI agent. Maybe mentioning that right now was not a wise move though, but given the last part of Will’s statement he knows that the young agent is aware that he knows exactly who he is.

“You are welcome to shower and change at my home, you will be safe there until you figure out where you would like to go from here.” Hannibal would have made that offer to anyone in Will’s situation, but he was especially curious as to why Will didn’t want to go to any authorities, Hannibal didn’t question the hostility towards him though as he already knows why the young agent is angry. 

“All of a sudden you want to help now? I know you know who I am, and you have since the first time you saw me. All it would have taken is one phone call to help me, and every other person in that place.”

“Yes I am aware of who you are, but things are not always that simple.” 

“You know that Randall slaughtered innocent people too right?”

“Randall was responsible for his own choices, I merely provided him with a way out.”

“You gave an unstable person the power to kill, you knew that he didn’t have the capability to distinguish the people who didn’t deserve to die from those who did! He probably killed dancers that accidently bumped into him a year ago… you are responsible for their deaths, not Randall.”

“I was a pre-cursor yes, but without my actions you would still be in that cage, and Randall would have probably been dead at the hands of Mason within the very near future. What went on in that house was not my business, only one aspect of it was, and I did what I had to in order to remedy that situation, I am sorry for the ones who died without just cause, but I didn’t kill anyone Will, they all died by way of their own choices.”

“Yeah that’s really admirable. Didn’t you kill your own slave?”

“I have never owned a slave, regardless of how hard Mason tried to convince you and probably many others of that fact, as I said before everything isn’t always as it seems.”

“Are those men you brought actually going to take the survivors somewhere safe?”

“Of course, they have no use for them, and no interest in hurting them, in fact all five including Franklyn are probably being taken to the police station as we speak.” Hannibal noted Will’s unease once again at the mention of the authorities, it certainly was intriguing.

“So the cops are going to raid the house and shoot Randall? Another good move!”

“Randall knows exactly how much time he has in that house before people show up, by my assumption the first to arrive will be Mason’s replacement guards, and then the police, meaning the only other people that were aware of what was happening in that house will be the guards on their way there now and they will either be arrested, or shot on sight. Do you think they are undeserving of that punishment?”

“No, obviously not, but there were some undeserving people in that house and no matter how you try to justify it, you killed them.” 

“And you would still be trapped.” Will turned to look out of the window, taking in a few deep breaths in an attempt to stem his anger, maybe pissing Hannibal off wasn’t his wisest move right now. Gazing straight ahead, Will was only half aware of the world outside the claustrophobic comfort of the car, where does he go from here? He still hasn’t offered up a place for Hannibal to take him, because he doesn’t have anywhere he wants to go, each option would bring nothing but shame.

There still wasn’t a refusal of Hannibal’s offer to shower and change at his home though either, it was like being in limbo and one wrong decision could have him right back in a situation he was so desperate to escape from. Laying his head against the window, the streetlights seemed to flicker as they rapidly passed, the even motion has Will’s consciousness ebbing, his mind went into free fall, swirling with the violent images of his latest nightmare. 

Will had always described falling asleep like being caught in a carousel of thoughts, every notion and event from the day would replay in his mind, demanding analysis before he could be allowed to sleep, even before his abduction. The nightmares had only gotten worse since and made the notion of sleep a fantasy rather than a regular action, but right now his eyelids felt heavy, Will closed them for only a moment, a moment too long when exhaustion took over and pulled him into the realm of sleep.

The need for revenge had been like a rat gnawing at Randall’s soul for so long now, it was relentless, unceasing, like an abscess on the skin of the soul that could only be cured by the cruel sharp steel point of vengeance. It festered like a septic wound, and Randall always questioned whether or not he would bare a grudge until he died, or if he would ever have the opportunity to take back his life, he didn’t need to ask that question anymore as he leant over the metal railings surrounding the rack.

Reaching over to open the final gate allowed access to the fully grown pigs who had already been excited by the smell of Cordell’s blood, the symphony of squeals now soothed Randall to no end instead of terrifying him and he smiled widely as the largest pig of the litter began to mount the burley butler. The sounds that left Cordell were inhuman as the massive weight of the pig finally rest against the broad back, a slew of groans emanated against the steel of the building and Randall watched on with a smile when he heard every bone in the man’s body begin to crack and break under the immense weight.

The clock ticked, Randall’s time left was limited but there was no way he was going to miss this show. Cordell’s noises stemmed to choking around the blood that was being forced from his mouth as the oxygen was slowly being ripped and snatched from his lungs leaving scars of regret on the weak tissue. Every waking second was pain. Every movement of the pig sent screaming agonies dancing across the vulnerable flesh as it fucked into Cordell violently, his surroundings blurred into a new sickening reality but after one more movement the burley butler ceased to move, completely crushed to death under the weight of the pig.

Looking down at his watch Randall knows he now has ten minutes at most to get out and away from the home, he is angry for the fact that he doesn’t have the time to look for Mason who was probably well hidden by this point or well away from the home, but he will come back for him. Looking down one of the smallest piglets was snuffling at his leg, he recognised it as the one that used to cuddle up on his hanging arm when he was suspended by the rack, it was almost like the animal felt his pain and wanted to offer up comfort. Picking it up Randall sprinted back to the house and rid himself of the vest, throwing everything down he ransacked a few of the rooms until he found a knapsack and some comfortable clothes to stuff inside, as well as a small blanket and some toiletries from the on-suite bathroom. Finally in the kitchen he stuffed as many canned goods and packeted foods into the knapsack and made his way outside, grabbing a warm looking jacket hooked on the wall beside the door and left with the swaddled piglet and the single automatic rifle.

Randall stood at the edge of the lawn, turning to look back at the house one last time as he reached the gates, other than the noise of dried leaves swaying in the near-gale, the wind covered all traces of sound. He cast his eyes upward, the blackness of the sky and the stars nestled within it seemed so much brighter this night, his heart beat a little faster to see it, there is a slight after thought for what he did to some of the dancers and Randall questions if you can you lose your humanity in a single moment? Or can you get it back in an instant? Is humanity something that can leave forever? And have his actions resulted in that? Randall knows he was hardly human anyway, born into the wrong species he thinks. But does he still have a soul? He was human once after all, but maybe he had blocked out all his humanity out so he could taste the only thing he craved… revenge.

Smiling widely Randall took off running fast down the road, raising the automatic rifle to the nights sky he pulled the trigger and emptied the cartridge as he ran. “RANDALL’S FREE BITCHES!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Veering to a sharp left Randall dropped the weapon and supported the piglet with both hands as he ran into the dark woods without even a glance backwards. 

After a few hours Hannibal finally pulled up outside his home, quietly he exited the car and moved to pull Mason out of the trunk, leaving a sleeping Will inside. Hannibal wasn’t careful when he dragged Mason from the trunk inside the home, throwing him down the basement steps he followed behind the limp form as it bounced from each step and once he was secured to a medical styled bed Hannibal made his way back up and locked the door, he had many intentions for Mason, but not tonight, and not too quickly, the man needed to suffer.

Will wakes suddenly, every thought in high definition. Though his eyes are open he can't think of why, the first and foremost thought is that he has over slept and he is about to be punished, but the surroundings of the car remind him of what had happened and his heart is pounding, mind empty. It's as if a hypodermic of adrenaline has been emptied into Will’s carotid, he strains into the utter darkness outside of the car until the surroundings of Hannibal’s home comes into view, his breathing rate beginning to steady when he realised he was alone and the trunk was open. Hannibal has likely taken Mason inside, but would be coming back for him very soon, so now is his chance, opening the car door Will takes one look around for the man before sprinting away from the house.

Away from being held captive once more…


	10. Gracious...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had an amazing Christmas and New Year! Apologies that I haven't uploaded for a while the holidays and work have been hectic...
> 
> Mason finally gets his just desserts but who will be the one to cause him the most pain? Please note this chapter and the next contain some pretty brutal torture scenes you have been warned! Hannibal tries to hel Will through his ordeal, no matter how many times he lashes out...
> 
> A big thank you to everyone and anyone that is still following this story, especially the ones that have left a comment and a kudo's! I hope this chapter is enjoyed, and as always please let me know your thoughts!

Hannibal grabbed both of Mason’s arms and moved to drag him home, the storm will help to wash away and hide the tell tale signs that will follow, he prays the rain stays heavy, it is mingled with the darkness and for now, the only friends he has. There is shelter from the trees planted just inside the perimeter that will keep them hidden until Hannibal makes it the short distance to his own back door, time is of the essence right now.

Hannibal wasn’t careful when he dragged the semi-lifeless body through his back door and threw him down the basement steps, compared to what was coming that action was a massage. Mason had begun to rouse but in no way was he coherent. When Hannibal reaches the bottom of the staircase he grabbed Mason’s ankle this time and descends further into the basement through a hidden sliding door, when it closes and he turns around the man is unconscious once more.

Hannibal secured Mason to a restrained bed tightly, checking for any means of escape before grabbing a vial of mild anaesthetic and headed straight back out the door to wake Will.

Will jumps from the car, checking for Hannibal before setting into a run from the house, not stopping until it’s out of sight. Reaching the road he hesitated for only a moment before turning to run through a maze of trees, if Hannibal does give chase then he doesn’t want to leave himself vulnerable and be out in the open. 

Although his bare feet ached and froze against the frosted ground he never slowed, running until his lungs demanded he stop, looking around at the canopy of darkness he looked to the sky as it rumbled and cursed when heavy rain began to fall quick, bouncing inches off the ground. A storm smothered the sky enveloping any visible stars, greying the world around him further. Drops of rain beat against Will’s face and legs like hammers only dripping further to soak the coat he was wearing but he didn’t care, the storm had battered his hair into a tangled mess and he still didn’t care, not until the wind penetrated the thin polyester fibres with absurd ease and every drop of icy rain soaked through the instant of its impact. 

The cold that had seemed so mild at first now numbed his face and extremities. What residual heat he had absorbed in the car was gone, it had been his buffer, but unwittingly he had squandered it believing the thin coat would stand the test of preserving his body heat. With each breath Will took the oxygen rose in puffs of white vapour, with each gust of the wind more heat dissipated into the whiteness, with each step the rocks and ice pulled more heat from his marrow, slowly freezing him.

Will fell to rest against a tree as he pulled the coat tighter around him, his body heat didn't so much as drain away or leach out slowly, it abandoned him with callous speed to leave him shivering too violently to go any further. But he couldn’t stay here, not for long he would freeze, so, although his legs ached he pushed on and eventually made it to what looked to be an empty farmhouse. The building was small, barely any external features remained, just the bones, but it was shelter so slipping inside, Will moved from room to room until he found a relatively dry one with an old bed and mattress and collapsed down on to it. Feeling totally helpless, Will curled up on his side hugging his own limbs trying in vain to keep even a slither of warmth in his extremities, and there he lay, in a freezing cold dark room, completely devoid of hope.

Walking outside to lock up the car and rouse Will, Hannibal wasn’t overly surprised by the fact that he had run, but he didn’t chase the young agent, he didn’t even attempt it, Will wasn’t a prisoner and if he wanted to leave, he could leave. The man did hold out some hope that he would come back when he realised he needs help though and he hoped that was soon, the temperature outside was below freezing and Will had on nothing but a thin coat.

What’s the point? Where does he go from here? Going to the police would invoke nothing but a further humiliation, what respectable FBI agent would allow themselves to be kidnapped and kept as someone’s pet? Will succumbs to the fact he has nowhere to go, and nobody to turn to, so all that was left is to curl up into a ball on his side and wait for the icy fingers of death. Will feels nothing, it's like a void, a dark void. A never ending one that consumes everything including his last shreds of strength, until he’s left feeling nothing. Empty. Nothing to subside his hollow soul that creeps in the shadows, away from any other human life because Will doesn’t trust any of them and if he did it's an emptiness that is so consuming it cannot bare to pretend that everything is okay. Nothing is okay!

For over three hours Will lay frozen on the ice cold mattress, his limbs rapidly losing feeling as he replayed every degrading act he had committed over the past few months. There were times he thought he would die at the hands of Mason, he had been beaten, tortured, raped, humiliated… and now he was going to freeze to death with those final thoughts, was he really going to just give up? Lay here and die? After everything? 

No, he wasn’t, he couldn’t.

Will scrambled weakly to his feet, slowly sprinting away and back to the only place he could think of, the only place he had left to go, Hannibal’s. Where else was there? He didn’t even know if the man would be interested after what he just did, just running away without even so much as a thank you for saving him, but he had to try. Will hadn’t realised how far out he actually made it, he had been running for what felt like hours but the hour walk back, took two in his diminished state. The lack of food and water over the past few weeks mixed with the cold temperatures has taken its toll now, and he isn’t even sure he will make it to the door.

Thank fully he did, he collapsed on Hannibal’s porch with no energy left to even knock as he slipped into unconsciousness slumped against the door. Hannibal heard the thud from the kitchen and moved to open the door immediately without even questioning who it was, that was pretty apparent, he looked down to see the shell of Will slumped on his side and instantly scooped the freezing agent into his arms and carried him upstairs to lay him down on the bed. Christ he was freezing, if he didn’t warm Will up soon hypothermia would certainly set in so he moved to the en-suite bathroom and ran a warm bath before stripping the still unconscious Will from the wet coat but left the shorts on not wanting to make him uncomfortable when he rouses. 

Hannibal gently lifted Will once more and laid him in the bath whilst keeping one arm tucked under his neck and shoulders to prevent him from slipping too far down. Will wasn’t in the warmth of the water long before he came back into consciousness slowly, the heaviness of deep sleep still weighing on him. The warmth of the water brought his senses back to him, but he jerked awake fully when he felt someone touching him, sitting bolt upright with the help of Hannibal. “Hey it’s ok Will, it’s ok, you’re fine.” Hannibal kept his arm around Will’s shoulders supporting the weak frame when it threatened to slip back down. 

After a few panicked breaths Will rest his head against his own hands breaking into quiet sobs.

“Hannibal… I’m sorry, I’m sorry I ran without even saying thank you.” 

“That doesn’t matter ok? let’s just get you cleaned up and get you some food.” Will doesn’t move away from the touch, he’s surprised himself that he doesn’t, but Hannibal doesn’t feel threatening and he’s just too weak to do it himself so just moves his knees to his chest and allows the man to run the smooth washcloth over the expanse of his bony body when it becomes too hard to hold himself up and closes his eyes when the man washes his hair, too weak to do it himself.

“Stay here for a minute, I’m just going to get you something to wear.” Hannibal had gone out of his way to ensure Will had some clothes if he could in fact get him out of that place, there weren’t many, but enough for a couple of days until the young agent decided what he wanted to do, and it was needed he was happy to buy more for him. So pulling open the draws he decided on some black sweatpants with a matching hoodie, they may be a little big for Will as he had seemingly lost quite a lot of weight in a very short expanse of time but it’s certainly better than the skimpy shorts he was wearing and he guesses that Will would be happy to wear any clothes by this point. 

Hannibal returned to the bathroom with the clothes and a towel in hand and helps Will to stand in the tub, holding out the towel in front of Will so he feels a little more comfortable removing his soaked shorts. Will stumbles a little when the towel is wrapped around him and he attempts to step out of the tub, barely strong enough to hold himself up Hannibal catches him and helps him to dry off and dress before walking him back through to the bedroom and sits him on the bed. Hannibal knows that his touch is probably unwanted, and he avoids it wherever he can, but Will was beyond weak at this point and needed the help whether he would admit it or not.

“There, nice and clean.”

“I don’t feel clean.” Hannibal moves to sits beside Will on the bed but maintains a small distance between them as the young agent stares off into space. What follows from Will’s experience will be crippling PTSD coupled with severe depression and grief, there is no avoiding it, the emotions he will experience are the unseen, unheard, silent killers. It's pain that is too much to cope with, too hard to deal with, and so misunderstood, a person can't escape it no matter how hard they try, and Hannibal knows that no matter what, Will is never going to be able to escape this. Because the trauma doesn’t follow you, it lives within a person’s soul like a black shadow, eating away until there is nothing left but despair.

There is recovery, it’s possible, but it’s a long road to any type of healing.

“You are going to feel that way for a while Will, I’m truly sorry this happened to you, and I’m truly sorry that I didn’t stop it sooner… but I hope you can understand and forgive my reasons. I’m going to go and make you some food ok? Just stay here I won’t be long.” Before Will can protest Hannibal leaves the room and returns a short time later with a tray vegetable soup and bread, helping him to sit up comfortably in the bed before propping up a few pillows behind him.

“I don’t want to be ungrateful but I’m not hungry.” Will hated being rude, but he just felt numb and doubts highly that the knot in his stomach would allow any food to pass.

“I know you feel like you’re not Will, but trust me you need to eat something, when was the last time you ate?”

“A bowl of dog food a couple of days ago.”

“That isn’t and wasn’t right, it was inhumane, but regardless of the food it’s not enough Will, please eat something and then you can get some sleep ok?” Hannibal moved the tray over his lap and encouraged him once more to eat, and Will forced himself to eat three or four large bites whilst Hannibal sat quietly, this wasn’t a situation he had encountered before, in therapy yes, but not in his own home, so he is trying to act in the manor he think would help.

“I can’t eat anymore.” Will tried but it was like his body wouldn’t accept it.

“You’ve eaten more than I thought you would.” Hannibal placed the tray on the floor before sitting back beside Will, again maintaining a comfortable distance.

“I-I’m sorry I just barged in, I will leave if you want me to.” The last thing Will wanted to do was leave the relative safety of this house, but he had no right to stay if he wasn’t wanted there, whether he had a place to go or not. 

“Well, you do know where the door is, but I wouldn’t recommend using it, it’s freezing out there and you are welcome here for as long as you need.” 

“I can sleep on the couch or the floor, I don’t want to be a bother or put you out.” 

“No, here is fine, it’s a guest room, you are not putting me out in any way. Try and get some sleep ok? it’s late, I will be down the hall if you need anything.” With that Hannibal is about to walk out and close the door but stops when Will speaks.

“C-could you leave the door open please?” The idea of a locked door made Will feel sick, even a closed one right now has his heart rate increasing, he still needs that view and presence of an exit because there is still that air of terror that Hannibal could turn out to be exactly like Mason and have similar plans for him. 

“Of course, there is no lock on this door Will, and the house keys are on a hook beside the front door ok? You are safe here, and you are free to leave anytime you wish.” Will’s apprehensions were to be expected and Hannibal didn’t take any offense to his concerns, the young agent wasn’t a prisoner and can leave anytime he wants.

“Thank you, and thank you for letting me stay.” Hannibal simply smiled and offered up a small nod before pulling the door only slightly closed, enough for Will to see out and not panic.

When the man leaves Will stands to pace the elegant room, it is comfortably spacious and looks just like a magazine cover. The walls are a light gray complemented with darker gray drapes, a cursory look to the right shows Will the almost hidden cords that are used to open and close them. There’s no television, but two bookshelves, every shelf packed tight with an array of books. Will scans for a personal touch, something that doesn't suggest a hired designer chose it and he doesn’t see many. The floor is a light polished pine, with a matching colored bed frame holding a double mattress and light gray silk sheets.

It had been a long time since he had slept in an actual bed with sheets…

After half an hour Will started to get drowsy, he climbed into the bed fully clothed not wanting to strip to his underwear, he doesn’t think he ever wants to be naked again. Covering himself further Will cocooned himself between the sheets, god it was soft, warm and comfortable, something he didn’t think he would ever feel again. Eventually, after what felt like hours of tossing and turning he fell into a nightmare induced sleep, his last thought of, ‘what do I do now? Where do I go now?’

Even tucked into a comfortable bed in a relatively safe place, there was no real sleep. Every now and then he’d drift off for an hour or so, only to be jolted awake like someone had grabbed his arm and pulled him up. Of course, no one had, that’s just what it felt like. The inevitable panic ensued, increased heartbeat, sweating, racing thoughts. Then, of course, the horrific feeling of realizing the sun had come up and he hadn’t had a minute of sleep.

Will climbed from the bed and made it up before approaching the top of the stairs, listening carefully he heard the man moving around in the kitchen and takes a deep breath before walking down to follow the sound of movement, offering up an almost whispered ‘morning’ when he walks through the door.

“Good morning Will, please sit down breakfast won’t be long.” Will sat at the kitchen island as the man cooked whatever he was cooking and took the cup of coffee when it was offered up. The food smelt amazing but that persistent knot in his stomach just made him wretch when thinking about eating anything at all, he doesn’t want to be rude but he doubts he will be able to eat whatever was put in front of him. What does he even say to Hannibal? Would the man even want him here after breakfast? Yes he was told that he was welcome for as long as he needs, but maybe he was just being polite?

“Where’s Mason?” The question was asked before Will even realised he was speaking and for the first time Hannibal looked briefly at him.

“Mason is in the basement, where he will be remaining until I decide what to do with him.” Offering up a plate to Will Hannibal sat beside him and they eat in relative silence, the Doctor doesn’t want to push or force any conversation that Will doesn’t want, so leaves it up to him to speak but he doesn’t and that is just fine. 

Hannibal watched discreetly as Will pushed the food around the plate, only taking the occasional bite, it was to be expected and he doesn’t comment on it, instead just takes the plate when Will was seemingly finished and cleared away the dishes regardless of Will’s many offers to help. 

“Ok, I have to go out for a while now, please make yourself at home and help yourself to anything that you would like.” Hannibal had called Jack to request a few days leave from work, faining a slight illness until things and situations settle, he held no qualms about leaving Will in the house alone and maybe it would even make the young agent a little more comfortable? Why? Because Hannibal knows the second he leaves the house and drives away the first thing he will do is try the doors, so if Will knows that he can leave anytime he wants to, that might go a long way to soothing his understandable worry.

“Ok, thanks again for letting me stay here.”

“You are welcome Will, I will see you a little later.” Hannibal’s assumption was completely correct, the second Will heard the car pull away he moved to the front door and un-hooked the keys to ensure that yes he could leave, when the door opened he felt a little more relaxed and moved to the back of the house to the patio door. Pulling it open Will looked out at the serene view, inhaling deeply at the crisp air, he had missed been outside so much and regardless of the cold temperature he sat out on the patio furniture just letting his mind wander until it landed back on Mason. 

Standing in the kitchen Will stared at the basement door, three times he turned away and walked back, even now the thought of coming face to face with Mason was a terrifying prospect and that thought made him feel ill, was he really going to allow that animal to hold any more power over him? No, he won’t, so after a little more self-persuasion he urged himself to descend the stairs.

The basement is devoid of beauty, Its walls a simple cream, not peeling or dirty, just cream. There is no decoration at all and the room has an undertone of anaesthetic and bleach with the floor a simple stone color. Walking through a second door Will comes face to face with Mason strapped to some form of surgical bed and he forces himself to take that last step to look down at the stirring aristocrat.

Mason wakes disorientated, the chemicals in his blood now feel more like a leech in his cranium, sucking the ability to keep his eyes open and brain switched on. The world blurs again for a few seconds and he feels confused, unsure of where he is, then it all comes back to him, Mason's head jolted upward letting him know that he did fall asleep, but his eyes grow wider than usual and take on a wild look as he scans the room he’s in.

Mason tips his head further and see’s the stands for intravenous drips and monitors and at the door are dispensers for rubber gloves, hand sanitizer and soap. Mason let’s out a momentary exhale of relief when he associates the room with the infirmary set up in his home. But why was he in the infirmary? The second glance of the room takes the relief away quickly and finally he looks to the side of the bed to witnesses Will standing beside him, each hand grasping the metal frame, staring… his face twisted in hatred and anger that couldn’t be confused as anything else.

Mason’s eyes go wide and the heart monitor bleeps increase, where the hell was he?? It only took a few moments to guess exactly where he was and Mason had on some level expected this, his possible demise at the hands of the enraged Doctor, he was prepared for it, but it made it no less terrifying. But to see Will standing there was an entirely different feeling, a wash of rage overtook the aristocrat, how the hell did Hannibal take him from the home?? How did he leave himself vulnerable to this?

“Will… untie me.” Will stood frozen just staring down at the man, feeling a slight rise of happiness when the panic spread across Mason’s face, how many times had he had that same look at the hands of this man? “Please… Will, please.” Mason begged again.

“Please what?? Please stop?? Please let me go?? Please kill me?? Didn’t I plead the same things to you?” Still no response. “PLEASE WHAT?!” Will wasn’t quite sure when the tears began to fall, but for the first time they weren’t tears of sadness of fear, they were angry, every inch of Will’s body vibrated with rage. Looking over at the furthest wall a smile spread across the young agents face, there was a plastic cover that shrewn the wall in secrecy, but what peeped out just between the edges has Will reaching a level of anger he had never reached before.

Will walked from beside the bed and pulled back the curtain fixed to the wall and it displayed every surgical tool imaginable, scanning the items Will selected a pair of plyers, smiling over at Mason as he did before walking back over to the bed. pulling back his fist Will struck out hard at the side of his face and repeated the action a few more times until Mason’s face was sufficiently bruised and bleeding.

When Will raised the plyers the begging started almost instantly, but Mason’s pleas fell on deaf ears just like his own had. Using a hand to squeeze at Mason’s jaw hard, Will kept the grip until he had no choice but to open his mouth wide, without even a second of hesitation Will used the end of the plyers to grasp one of Mason’s molars and began to pull. The screams turned to gurgles of pained sounds as Will slowly ripped the tooth from his head, Mason began to thrash against the restraints, screaming out loud as Will calmly took hold of another one and repeated the action. 

After a third tooth was pulled Will dropped them and the plyers down on the bed beside Mason, smiling when he vomited, the aristocrat knows that he has just experienced one of the many torturous acts in his very near future and whined when his bladder emptied a stream of urine that soaked his briefs before trickling down the bed to pool on the ground beneath him.

“You are a monster Mason, and I hope Hannibal makes you suffer immensely until you take your dying breath!”

“Will please… I’m sorry! I’m sorry for what I did… please just let me go, I won’t say anything to anyone! You know how I feel about you… let’s just go home? Ok? let’s just go home and I swear I will treat you better.”

“You don’t have a home anymore Mason, right about now the swat teams and FBI will be there to take out anyone that Randall didn’t. I hate you. I HATE YOU!! YOU RAPED ME! YOU TORTURED ME!! YOU DEGRADED ME!! And this is exactly where you will take your dying breaths!!” Picking up the plyers once more Will hit out at Mason’s chest, face, arms, anywhere he could until a swipe across the head sent the sick aristocrat back into an unconscious state and he felt zero remorse for the action.

Panting hard Will took a backwards step away from the bed, looking down at his actions did nothing to quell the rage that burned inside of him. Taking one more step back he gasped and turned quickly when his back bumped into someone’s chest. Hannibal stood with a stoic look, placing a hand on each of Will’s arms when his presence startled the young agent, Dropping the plyers once more Will turned and ran from the basement, not stopping until he reached the guest bedroom and slammed the door closed behind him.

Hannibal had his own plans in mind for Mason, plans that he had gone over ever since he took Misha’s killer, with each day of planning the acts he wanted to commit against the sadistic man just became more and more heinous. But now he is questioning those plans, not because he doesn’t want to commit them but because maybe Will’s grievances towards Mason were worse than his own, maybe it should be the young agent that decides his fate? Maybe it would go a way to repairing some of the damage his captivity caused.

Hannibal didn’t go upstairs, he didn’t try and talk to Will or persuade him to come downstairs, instead he let the young agent deal with things in his own way in his own time, so retreated to his office for the next few hours until he moved to make supper. Hannibal had only got to the point of taking out the ingredients when he heard the bedroom door open and Will making his way back downstairs.

“Are you hungry?”

“I don’t know.” Slumping down in the chair at the kitchen isle Will massaged his own face, sitting quietly for a few moments he began to question whether he should apologise for what he did to Mason? Hannibal clearly has his own plans for the sick aristocrat and maybe his actions had encroached on his? “I-I’m sorry I went into the basement.”

“You have nothing to apologise for Will, if I were in your situation I may have done a lot worse.”

“What are you planning to do with him?”

“I have a variety of things that I would like that man to endure, but I am not the only one with a grievance towards him. But that doesn’t need to be discussed right now, he won’t be going anywhere any time soon, would you like to sous chef?” Hannibal turned the knife in his hand and turned the handle out towards Will who took it almost instantly, there was a moment he wanted to say no, he wanted to curl up in bed and never rise again but he also doesn’t want to insult the man.

“What do you want me to do?” Moving to stand beside Hannibal Will looked down at the variety of ingredients and realises the man is clearly fond of cooking, he could try for a hundred years and would have no clue how to prepare a meal out of what is laid before him, he couldn’t even name half of the fruit and veg. 

“So, dice all the veg and leave them in piles there, I will do the fruit.” Hannibal finished the small pile in only a few second, clearly his hands were experienced and began washing the fruit whilst Will slowly made his way through the veg thinking quietly to himself as he cut the carrots, potatoes and tomato’s into perfect little cubes placing them into individual piles.

The two stood side by side chopping away in silence, but not an uncomfortable one, helping with the cooking helped to take Will’s mind off things for a short while and also brought back a shred of appetite. “Don’t dice all the potato’s leave about a quarter whole please.” Hannibal missed his basic treats, such as chips, he had stopped eating things like that many years ago due to the unhealthy nature of them. They were one thing he still enjoyed making from scratch, but just a much healthier version of them, that was one of the main reasons he grew organic herbs, he could have salted or rosemary and thyme, or just plain and each were better than none.

After an hour had passed, one bowl was eventually filled with carrot and tomato soup, different herbs had been added and Will loved the smell, Hannibal was obviously a talented cook. The next bowl was filled with diced carrots, potatoes, green beans and mushrooms, before a diced meat was added that Will didn’t even recognise, and finally that was then mixed with veg gravy the man made using the herbs and water, producing an exceptional smelling stew. 

Finally, they moved onto the third bowl that consisted of fruit, and Hannibal mixed in a sweet smelling syrup topped off with fresh cream.

“Where did you learn to cook like that?” Will was genuinely intrigued by the man’s catering knowledge, wasn’t he a Doctor?

“I have always enjoyed cooking, I learn from recipe books and multiple attempts until the meals are perfect.”

“I thought you were a Doctor?” Hannibal huffed out a small laugh at the question, it’s one that he gets often.

“I am, cooking is more of a hobby, please sit down everything will be ready in a moment.” Another meal was eaten in silence, Will kept his gaze firmly down at his plate and the food he was pushing around, he ate small bites again and had to admit he felt better for it. But for every mouthful he flashed back to been bent over that dog bowl and the humiliation that stemmed from it, were those images ever going to leave his mind? Will doubts they ever would, everything just swirls unrestrained in his mind.

Will helped to clean up regardless of Hannibal’s insistence that it wasn’t necessary, but something about not helping just made him feel worse, the man had let him stay and cooked for him so the least he could do was help with the dishes. Will’s hand swirled in the soapy water as his eyes travelled outside of the window, the view represented a freedom he was unsure he would ever see again but yelped when he cut his finger pretty badly on the knife he was washing. Hannibal walked over and pulled a key from his back pocket before he used it to open the end cabinet door in the kitchen, and Will’s eyes zoned in on the shelf after shelf of pills, bandages, band-aids, and what he assumes is an antiseptic wash.

“What the hell are you doing?” Will practically yelled when the man grasped his wrist lightly to pull his finger close to clean it, Will knew exactly what Hannibal was doing, but the feeling of been grabbed around the wrist gentle or not and pulled forward without warning or consent startled him, bringing back many unwanted memories.

Will pulled his hand away as though Hannibal’s skin was on fire. He had already agreed in his mind Hannibal was doing nothing wrong but his body couldn’t help but yell out… another example of how he no longer control his own body and mind. “What do you think you can have your way with me for letting me stay here!?

“No Will of course not, it’s a deep cut ok, it just needs cleaning.” In hindsight Hannibal realises he probably shouldn’t have taken a hold of Will’s wrist before telling him what he was about to do.

“I-I’m sorry I said that, I didn’t mean it. I will just leave.” 

“You have nothing to apologise for Will, I didn’t mean to startle you and you do not have to leave, as I say you are welcome here for as long as you need.” When Hannibal guided Will to sit down he took the chair beside him and reached out for Will’s hand this time, he was careful when cleaning up and patching the small wound, but felt the trembles emanating from the young agent’s hand at even the slightest of touch, Hannibal didn’t blame Will for not wanting to be touched, he wouldn’t want to be either if he had been through what the young agent had.

“Thank you… Would you mind if I went to bed? I’m really tired.”

“No of course I don’t mind, you know where I am if you need anything.” Will didn’t make eye contact, just nodded as he stood to walk upstairs while Hannibal cleared up the rest of the kitchen. The Doctor assumes that embarrassment was probably the reason for Will’s fast exit, more so than been tired anyway. Hannibal really isn’t taking anything that Will does or says personally, he honestly can’t imagine where the young agents head is right now, but if and when he decides that he wants help, then he will make a point of been on hand to offer it.

It really didn’t take Will long to drift off into an uncomfortable sleep, still exhausted from the lack of it over the months of his confinement, the sweating had started the second he pulled the sheet up over him and he makes a mental note to offer to was them after his use. 

“Hello sweet pea!” Will’s eyes shot open at the sound of Mason’s voice, he jumped up from the dog bed as Mason took two steps towards him whilst he took two steps back, it was a dream, a fucking dream! He was still trapped within Mason’s home. 

“Come on princess clothes off, on the bed!” The man pretty much sang. 

“No.” Mason looked shocked at his response.

“Stop being a disobedient little mutt, AND GET ON THE FUCKING BED YOU LITTLE BITCH!”

“I said no Mason.” Mason crossed the space between them in two strides, wrestling Will face down on the bed and climbed on top of him, Will struggled hard underneath him but had no energy left to fight back.

“Now listen to me you little bitch, I have no problem with taking it if I have to as you well know! So be a good little mutt and service your master!” Mason placed one hand hard between Will’s shoulder blades holding him in place while the other started pulling at his pants.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!! LET ME GO!!” Will panicked when his pants and underwear were pushed down to his knees and he heard the man’s fly open, he can’t go through that pain again. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want this anymore.

But it doesn’t look like he has a choice.

Hannibal wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke to the sound of shouting sobs, but knew it was still the middle of the night, climbing out of bed he only hesitated for a moment before moving, especially when he heard something glass made shatter against the wall in Will’s room.

Will dived from the bed when he managed to struggle from beneath Mason, the room suddenly turns pitch black as he scurries backwards on his hands and knees, he still hears the movement as though Mason is searching in the dark for him. When his back finally hit the wall, Will cried out when he saw something moving towards him, reaching onto the nightstand beside him he felt around for a weapon, anything to get this man away from him and settles on throwing the lamp hard when the figure finally lurches forward.

“Will?” Hannibal looked around and made out the dark hunched over figure and flipped on the remaining lamp before walking towards him, from the sight of Will huddled between the wall and the nightstand it was clear he was not fully awake or aware of his surroundings, instead his eyes were wide and darting rapidly. Crouching down in front of Will Hannibal didn’t make an attempt to reach out and touch him, knowing that action would only terrify him more so instead he spoke calmly, trying to reach the young agents subconscious.

Will pulled his knees tight to his chest and whined insistently into his own skin as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Will can you hear me?” Will gripped himself tighter but nodded sharply before giving off another full-bodied shudder. “Do you know where you are?” As Hannibal reached out for him, Will tried desperately to back further against the wall. Wide green eyes darted around the semi-dark room and Hannibal hesitated, fingers hovering by Will’s arm, waiting to see if his limbs would strike out, when they didn’t he gently clasped Will’s cheeks with both hands, but removed them again as soon as he instantly started to panic, he wasn’t currently in touch with reality, he isn’t sure who’s touching him, there have been too many foreign hands on his skin, even in the half-darkness the room spun.

“DON’T HURT ME!! PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO!! I DON’T WANT TO!” Hannibal wasn’t expecting Will’s next movement, but when he lurched forward to grasp his shoulders he pulled the agent forward the rest of the way into his lap. The hug of gentle arms still gives the space to breathe, and the hold of strong arms finally brought Will back into reality as he grasped the man’s back hard with both hands, he’s paralysed with nothing but fear.

Will started to whine again through chattering teeth, he doesn’t know what’s real anymore.

“It feels so bad…” Will sobbed into the man’s neck, his teeth bit down harshly into the chapped skin of his lips, trying to stop any more involuntary convulsive whimpers. “I hate it. I hate it… I hate myself. I’m disgusting.” At this point Will isn’t sure why he is still clung to the man, he isn’t sure why Hannibal’s touch doesn’t send him back down of that spiral of panic, but there is still no attempt to move. Will feels like he is falling, everything is swirling and there is nothing to ground him, there is only the grasp of Hannibal that he focuses on to keep himself from completely breaking apart.

Hannibal sat with Will for nearly an hour stroking at his hair and back until finally he began to calm. 

“Do you think you can get back to the bed?” Will gave a short sharp nod before Hannibal rose to his feet with the young agent still in his arms, he walked back over to the bed and laid him back down before pulling the sheets back up over him and sat beside. “It’s okay Will, everything’s going to be okay…” Every thought Will had just became confused as the burning pain licked up his insides like scorching fire. Hannibal wasn’t sure when it happened, but eventually Will drifted off into yet another nightmare induced sleep, but he remained seated beside the young agent a little longer until he was sure that Will was settled.

As quietly as he could Hannibal ensured the lamp and every shard of glass was cleared away before dressing and making his descent downstairs, all the way to the basement. Once inside he heard Mason’s occasional shriek for help which only got louder as he leant back against the sliding wall, Hannibal listened with a giddy excitement projected by the smirk on his lips, one black dress shoe moved to rest over the other as the gray sport coat fell comfortably over the perfectly fitted gray vest and white shirt. 

Every aspect of Hannibal’s being was refined, and his personality only made him even more striking, he had built his entire life around being charismatic and pleasant to those who deserved it and often to those who didn’t. Even in his kills there was nothing but a healthy respect for the pure, every action had purpose, it was never to be cruel. But now, Mason has not only tortured countless innocent souls, he also taken his state of virtue and grace along with it because in this situation… he is about to sink lower than he ever has, cruelty towards Mason will be the fibre of his every being until he decides to show mercy.

Another shout only had Hannibal’s dark grin grow wider as he enjoyed the torment in the pitiful screams. With the swipe of one hand the door slid open and the sounds quietened to an enjoyable breathing and panting of terror. Hannibal moved to stand beside the bed enjoying the visual much more than the auditory, but it still wasn’t enough to stem the overwhelming need for vengeance.

“What do you think should happen to you both? What do you think would be an appropriate level of punishment for kidnap, torture, sexual slavery, pure terror, nightmares? I need some help with that Mason because I have never had the misfortune of crossing paths with someone this cruel, and I have met many sadistic people in my time… That wasn’t a rhetorical question you know.”

When Mason offered up no answer Hannibal moved closer, grasping the aristocrats cheeks to turn his head and make eye contact. “Ok well here is what I have to say, the remainder of your days will be lived out right here in this basement and each one will contain nothing less than agonising torture, this will continue for-” Mason began to scream through Hannibal’s grasp on his cheeks, unable to pull himself from the fear and panic, he began pulling hard, fighting against the restraints that weren’t budging.

“Be quiet.” Hannibal calmly demanded but Mason didn’t make an attempt to stop. “Be. Quiet.” Hannibal watched Mason scream and shout for a minute or so longer before giving him one more chance. “I’m only going to ask nicely one more time Mason. Be. Quiet.” The fear racking Mason’s body wouldn’t allow him to stop shouting regardless of the threat, this can’t be happening, everything had been planned out so perfectly and now it has all gone, instead he is facing god knows how many days of torture.

Hannibal smiled as he walked from beside the bed and pulled back the curtain covering the surgical tools, Mason was currently a far cry from his usual arrogant, cocky self and it was heaven for the Doctor, for him to be the one to bestow this pain and fear onto Mason was like a dream come true.

Hannibal smiles again and it brings nothing but beauty to the usual stoic face, no one feature makes Hannibal so handsome, though his eyes come close. People often speak of eye color as if that were of importance, yet his would be beautiful in any shade. From them comes an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness. Perhaps this is what is meant by a gentleman, not one of weakness or trite politeness, but one of great spirit and noble ways.

On the flip side of that fact though was the more daunting side of Hannibal, he gave sociopaths a bad name. People found it easy to trust Hannibal, he had an easy going style, but it was this conniving persona that made him dangerous, he hid his true self like a snake covered with leaves. There was never any indication of evil intent, no hint of self-deviant motives, just charm. There was nothing creepier than a person with emotions that don't match the situation and Hannibal’s rarely did, he consistently upheld his charismatic cover of care for those who are in pain and did what he could to help, it was that thin line that stood between himself and psychopathy. Psychopaths are unable to feel or empathise with sadness when others have a trauma to relate, they feel an inner surge of pleasure when others suffer with no justifiable cause. Hannibal did not.

“You know Mason I once read a thesis in college and a certain paragraph from that paper has stuck with me ever since, it read, ‘You can't reason with someone who's thoughts are not based on logic or verifiable fact. If they've hung their self-esteem and self-purpose on some extremist viewpoint then nothing will shift their illogical opinions.’ Personally I think those few lines describe both you and myself in some kind of poetic harmony, the verse states you both down to the last detail and tells me I should not try and convince you that your actions were wrong because your extremist views will prevent a shift in your logic… meaning you will never have true remorse for your actions because you believed them to be true. So, taking that into consideration, I should let you go rather than try… but I’m not going to of course… I enjoy a challenge.”

“Well Doctor Lecter I knew you were an evil man, but I didn’t have you down as this evil, could I please trouble you for a glass of water?” Hannibal huffed out a laugh at Mason’s attempt to sound indifferent to the situation but his fear and panic was present in his shakily, rasping voice. Mason licked his lips, trying to wet the inside of his dry mouth, his tongue swiped across his lips again as he panted from the heat of the surgical lights hung inches from his body, which weren't helping the dehydration. They encouraged a constant burn and prevented sleep, they were a ruthless torture in themselves.

“Yes, I imagine you are feeling quite thirsty by now, you see the IV keeping you hydrated will dispel just enough fluids to keep you alive, but it will never be enough to stem the constant thirst, the same goes for your IV of nutrients… I also imagine severe hunger is probably going to be making an appearance very soon.” 

“What do you want from me Doctor? I’m sure we can come to some type of arrangement.” Mason realised shouting wasn’t going to get him anywhere but maybe bargaining might? 

“I want to make you suffer, I want to hear the pain of your cries. I want to know the second you don’t exist anymore so I can savour it. I want to know I was the person that caused you unrelenting torture, just like you did to so many innocent boys and men. I want revenge for the man you took from me, you destroyed something that you cannot even begin to comprehend. This is all your own handiwork Mason, if you hadn’t of broken into my home in Lithuania then you would be able to return to yours, but you did what you did, so now I will do what I do.” Hannibal smiled, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Well I’m afraid we don’t have much time together this evening Mason as I would like to get back to bed, so! Shall we get started?” Hannibal clapped his hands together and pulled back the opaque curtain and climbed into his plastic suit not wanting a drop of Mason’s blood to tarnish his finely tailored suit, once he had zipped himself into the clear suit, he slipped on his visor and mask before looking at the row of surgical saws. Hannibal had quite a few options to choose from, but he decided it would be best to go with the bone saw that cut through basically anything. Maybe if he had been a little more time then he would use a blunter object, but there was always next time.

Carefully, Hannibal inspected the blade and nodded to himself.

“This will do.” Mason hadn’t witnessed what the man had placed on the metal tray until he walked back over to the bed and placed the tray beside him, the second the tourniquet and saw were in eyeline of Mason he began to scream bloody murder, fighting hard against the restraints.

"Hmmm, I should probably tighten those." Hannibal grabbed the straps to each restraint and pulled them tightly. When he finished the last strap, he applied the tourniquet halfway up Mason’s right leg and pulled it tight, smiling as he did.

“Hannibal please!! Please stop!! I’m begging you please don’t!!! I’M SORRY!! PLEASE!!!!” Hannibal checked the tourniquet was tight before his hand briefly brushed over the skin beneath it, seemingly admiring the flesh there. "You have very soft skin Mason, it's a shame I have to get rid of such a big chunk… but don’t worry you won't need it anyway… now this may sting a little Mason." Mason let out a blood curdling scream before Hannibal had even lowered the saw, thrashing violently against his restraints upon realising what was about to happen.

“Nobody can hear you down here Mason, but please, feel free to try… now deep breath ok? As you may feel a slight pinch." Hannibal brought the serrated edge of the blade down just below the tourniquet and pulled back the saw, “AAARRGHHHHH!!! STOP!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!! STOOOOOOP!!” Mason felt the rough edges of the blade cut through the soft flesh before reaching bone. It was excruciating agony that elicited another feral scream, the kind of scream that made your blood run cold. Hannibal’s gaze remained on Mason, watching his every expression of crippling agony as he basked in the howls of pain.

Hannibal brought the saw back and forth slowly, as if he had done this a thousand times before. Under the mask his lips curved into a sadistic smile, enjoying the sight of tears falling down Mason’s twisting face, the rapid spews of blood didn't deter him in the slightest, it only filled him with vigour as he sawed harder through the bone.

“AAAAHHHHHHHHHH OWWWWW AAHHHHHHHHH!!” One more push of the saw, and finally Mason’s foot and ankle became detached from the rest of his leg and Mason was no longer screaming, but silent. Shock had taken over, his entire body vibrated hard between hyperventilating breaths, his eyes wide as he lost all control of her trembling body.

“See that wasn’t so bad was it? I think we better corterise it though, we wouldn’t want you bleeding out would we?” Hannibal plugged in a clothes iron waiting for it to heat up as he swabbed the open wound with iodine, pain sears every time the swab touches the serrated skin, it burns better than a branding iron, and Mason’s mind conceded to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion.

When the iron was heated to full capacity Hannibal didn’t hesitate to push it hard against the stump, there were no cries this time, no screams or wailing, just the hiss and aroma of burnt flesh as Mason blacked out unable to take the pain anymore. When Hannibal was sure the bleeding was stemmed he once again sterilised the area with a strong anti-septic fluid and bandaged up the area, infection wouldn’t be a problem as Hannibal just fixed another IV of anti-biotics that would treat any infection if one was to arise, it would just be a painful injury to heal.

After clearing everything away Hannibal stopped in the doorway before turning to close the door.

“I think I am going to enjoy our time together Mason.”


End file.
